Owner	Pose
John Constantine	One of the worst things about Lux is that you can smoke in there. Which, if one is being honest, puts a fly in John Constantine's ointment. The whole point of smoking is to irritate people. Blow smoke in their eyes. Flick butts at them. Make people suffer viscerally what John experiences in his lungs when he inhales that sweet taste of nicotine. The fact that no one at Lux enforces New York's smoking ban always puts John in a surly mood. To pacify himself, he lights up another cigarette. A meeting's been scheduled and only a fool would ambush John at Lux or pick a fight. Not that the proprietor really *cares* about John, but he does care about his reputation, and no one likes a guest getting kidnapped. Just to be safe, John orders their cheapest whiskey in the largest glass he can, and turns his back to the bar to survey the lounge while waiting for his contact to arrive. A heavy tan overcoat's loosely draped over his left forearm, hand jammed in his pocket. In a white shirt with loose black tie and slacks, John could pass for an office drone enjoying a drink save for the alertness in his eyes and the scars and ink on his exposed forearms.
Wanda Maximoff	The perk of a club like Lux is that Wanda doesn't really have to seem out of place in dark colors, corsets, and skirts. Dressed in a ruffled knee-length black skirt and a crimson colored halter-style leather corset top, she seems fairly at ease. As she enters the club, she takes a long look around, as if to assess the situation before she makes her way over to the bar. "Gin and tonic, please," she offers to the bartender politely before she lets her eyes shift over to John.
John Constantine	If there was any doubt about John's occupation, it ends when he makes eye contact with Wanda. There's way too much alertness and deprecated self-awareness for him to be anything as mundane as a mere office drone. "I got a message from a 'Wanda M'," John tells the Romani girl. He digs in his trouser pocket for a torn scrap of notebook paper. "'Looking for consult. Meet @ Lux. worth your time'." John shows her the note as if validating its existance, and puts his jacket over the stool next to her. He doesn't sit, though, and props himself against the bar with one elbow while balancing a cigarette in his mouth. "So. Aside from the view, any particular reason you dragged me out to a nightclub with overpriced whiskey *and* a bleedin' cover charge?"
Wanda Maximoff	There's a small smile offered in John's direction, Wanda taking a moment to thank the bartender as her drink arrives before fully turning to face him. "I like the atmosphere," she says, taking a sip of her drink. "I do not always have an excuse to get out and enjoy myself dressed up like this. If you are adverse to the cover charge, I can cover it." She doesn't, it seems, offer to pay for the overpriced whiskey. "It is also a location very friendly towards those of a more magical nature. It seemed a good location for all of these things." There's a somewhat teasing smile. "Although this does not seem lik your type of place. Understandable." She takes another sip of her drink. "You do have a bit of a reputation as someone who can get things done."
John Constantine	"I'm not a bloody mercenry," the Brit says quickly, and John points at Wanda with a cigarette caught between two fingers. "Let's clear that up right quick, eh?" John snorts an exhale and tempers his reflexive outburst. "I'm a professional investigator and an expert on occultism. You want an expert, I'm your bloke," he informs Wanda. He addresses her with a flickering up-and-down, then turns and focuses on his whiskey. "What's a nice Romani girl like you doing with my number anyway? I only give that out to professional contacts and the odd pub girl, and I'd remember you asking for my number."
Wanda Maximoff	"It is a good thing I am not in need of a mercenary then," Wanda observes him over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. "But you are correct, I got your number from a mutual 'professional contact' who mentioned that you were someone to go to for information. This is a business meeting, I promise." There's a smile directed towards him, a calm and collected one. "I do not always have the time to do much legwork in investigating things myself. There is often a lot on my plate. You come highly recommended, though I believe your contact described you as 'highly irritating' for some reason."
John Constantine	"Can't imagine why." John slurps down some whisky. "I'm the life of the fuckin' party." He sits then, on the stool, and props an elbow on the bar with his knuckles against his chin. "Orright, I'm listening, then. I'm assuming this is mystical in nature?" he queries. John casts around, then finds a notepad and pen in his jacket pocket and flips it open atop a pudddle of beer on the bar. Liquid soaks up through the yellowed old notepad paper. "And if you're hirin' a PI, you're looking into something or someone that you want investigated discreetly," he observes.
Wanda Maximoff	Wanda laughs, sliding to take a seat next to him at the bar. "A friend of mine has a family heirloom that her daughter decided would be great to great to show off to her friends. It is a little silver hair clip, certainly looks like an antique. Unfortunately, she got mugged on her way back home and someone else ended up with the heirloom." She leans against the bar. "Might chalk it up as a loss if it were not magical. It is not a particular powerful artifact, but it is personal to her and certainly could be dangerous to others and possibly to her family if it isn't recovered. She did not elaborate as to what the danger was, but I imagine if she was willing to ask for my help it isn't likely to be some sort of charm that causes harmless illusions."
John Constantine	John grunts. "Great, stolen silver hair clip in New York. I'll just start running down every pawn shop and crooked dealer from here to Newark." It's written down dutifully enough but the way he scribbles with the writing instrument in his hand. "Okay. Gonna need to know some essentials-- who she is, what the object does, why she thinks it was taken, where and when she got mugged, and how the whole thing went down." He counts off on his fingers one at a time while he lists it. "If she's got a photograph of it or a good likeness, I'll need that too. Where can I innerview this friend of yours?"
Wanda Maximoff	"I never said it would be easy. It wouldn't require an expert if it was." Wanda opens the small clutch she'd brought with her, tugging out her phone and a small slip of paper. She searches through her contacts before she scribbles a number down and slides the paper over. "Her name is Abby, she should be expecting you to call at some point. She might not be so forthcoming with sharing what it does, though. She did not seem so open about it to me." She sips from her drink. "She should have a picture, though she does not think it was an intentional theft, just perhaps someone trying to get some money off of it."
John Constantine	"Bloody hell." John's cursing is almost an absent byword while he writes down the text. "Some bleedin hedge witch with a nice bauble wears it out in public and a normie without two licks of sense nicks it off her head. And she doesn't have the fortitude to fend him off? There's a theory about magical artefacts, you know." John writes down her information thoroughly and flips his notepad shut. "The person who tends to own them tends to be the person strong enough to *keep* 'em." John's powered through his whiskey and orders another drink. It's the cheapest swill Lucifer keeps behind the shelf, which is to say it's a few steps above the rotgut he'd clearly prefer to be drinking. "What's your relationship with this 'Abby', then?" he inquires of Wanda. "Flatmates? Ex girlfriend? I get the sense from you that you're not the sort people call up with a 1-900 number."
Wanda Maximoff	"I go to her for potion ingredients," Wanda explains, glancing over at him. "And it was her daughter that lost it, not Abby." There is the suggestion that she's not just someone people call up, and there's a bit of a smile from that. "She has been very kind to me in the past and is reliable and I do think it took a great deal of courage for her to even ask me in the first place." She takes another sip. "She was convinced I was too busy saving the world with the Avengers that I would not be able to help. I told her I could see if I could find information, at least. I am not fond of leaving friends in difficult situations."
John Constantine	"'s why I don't keep a lot of friends," John says, sagaciously. "They're fast to call you up when they lose something or need bail. Little slower when you need something of theirs in return, though. Easier to work for cash." The magus looks Wanda over with a another wary look. "I thought you looked familiar. You're one of 'em, uh, costumed Avengers, right? The Scarlet Witch," he informs her. "You're probably chummy with that daffy git Stephen Strange. Surprised you didn't go to him to do it. Granted he'll only come down off that high horse of his to lecture you," John concedes, "so I can see why a freelancer might be preferable."
Wanda Maximoff	"I do not think it is something he would be particularly interested in investigating," Wanda notes, a calm smile on her face still. "But yes, I am known as the Scarlet Witch... but I much prefer Wanda." She leans on an elbow, glancing at him. "But there is the added benefit of meeting you. Your reptuation isn't exactly the most positive, but it is an interesting one. I appreciate making connections with people. Especially if they might be allies in the future." Clearly, the reputation doesn't scare her off.
John Constantine	"Wanda," John repeats. "You can call me John then, as y'like. Constantine if y'don't." The magus sips his whiskey again and settles against the bar, facing Wanda with more relaxed body language as she addresses him. Her alluring attire is given another, appreciative once-over. "I wouldn't call me anyone's ally, luv," John advises her. "I'm a professional. I do a little, uh, civic service, looking out for dumb kids who whistle up a demon. Or idiots who should know better than to do truck with the dark arts. Allies are as bad as friends, they only want to be allies when they need something, and then they turn up with empty pockets when it's yer balls in the vise." He pauses mid-sip. "Er, proverbially, in yer case."
Wanda Maximoff	There's a small laugh from Wanda at the remark about 'balls in a vise'. "Well, John, at the very least you are a contact I would like to keep and I was curious about the remark about 'highly irritating'. Some things have to be seen in person." She takes a sip from her drink. "So you don't find it incredibly lonely to do everything on your own, or do you prefer the pleasure of your own company?" She shakes her head. "Being entirely alone is not exactly my favorite thought in the world. Surely you have /someone/ you rely on."
John Constantine	John's brows lift. "Blimey, you a psychoanalyst as well as a witch?" he inquires of her, feigning surprise. Eyebrows rise over a mirthful expression. "Lonely's in the job description, luv. There's a reason our lot don't have a lot of families or communes. We walk around twisting the universe's will back on its own arse for a living. Name the last time a coven got together when it didn't ultimately end in disaster, right?" The blonde fellow gives Wanda a shrewd once over again. "Course, if /I/ were a psychoanalyst, I might say that you bringin' up the question of me being lonely makes me wonder if you're feelin' the same way. Aren't you all chummy with the Avengers?" A finger gesturs vaguely in what might be the direction of the Avenger's Mansion. Maybe. "Whole lot of you shacked up together. Just like college, eh?"
Wanda Maximoff	"I think psychoanalising is a little generous of a term. I am simply observant," Wanda's still smiling, but there's something about what he's saying that seems to hang in her expression. "Being surrounded by people does not always make you less lonely, John." She looks down into her drink, then takes a sip of it. "I don't disagree. Families are hard to keep. There are complications. I don't feel that it means you shouldn't have people to rely on. I do have some, but..." She glances to the bartender, setting her glass down as she orders another. "Sometimes I prefer not to feel as if my mood will bring someone down."
John Constantine	"My advice? Don't muck about with people if your mood's contingent on theirs," John suggests, and orders a refill for himself as well. The bar's a little loud and crowded but it doesn't seem to be inconveniencing him, standing close enough to Wanda to be audible. "That's veering dangerously into the realm of 'responsible for other people', which is somethin' I swore off many years ago." He sips his drink, gestures with a full mouth, and sets it aside to swallow with a hiss of protest for the fire going down his throat. "You do what makes you happy, orright? And then happy people come to you. If you only do things that cheer up unhappy people, you'll never be happy, love. You'll just make yourself into someone that miserable bastards chase around so they can steal your happiness." "So." A hand rises, and his index finger lands pointedly on Wanda's shoulder. "What makes you happy, eh? Being alone? Being with people? Somewhere in the middle?"
Wanda Maximoff	"I don't think life is quite that simple," Wanda takes her newly refreshed drink, glancing back at John. "People do make me happy. Being around people is often something that balances me. Perhaps I feel some responsibility for others in that I don't like to see people hurt. I care a lot about the people and the world around me." She takes a sip, looking over at him. "You don't want to feel responsible for people, so you'd rather hide yourself away from them and not feel anything? It doesn't feel like it would be a very pleasant way to live."
John Constantine	John grimaces at the implied reprimand; for wont of something clever to come back with, he digs in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. A snap of his fingers brings the Zippo's flame to life and it dances under the end of the smoke hanging from his lips. "Maybe you're just a better person than I am," John says with a deprecating humor. "I don't care much for people in general and a lot of persons in specific. It's when you get attached that you start making mistakes, and mistakes get people killed." "So come out, enjoy a drink, find some company that's not objectionable, and make do with that," John says, gesturing at Wanda again as a case-in-pint. "You gonna be happier tomorrow, knowing I'm happy? If you think I'm sad, is that gonna weigh your spirit down?"
Wanda Maximoff	Wanda shakes her head. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't try. I don't think people are something to consider as burdens or complications to weigh you down." She does, however, smile at the suggestion of enjoying a drink and not objectionable company. "I don't base my entire mood off of those around me, John. But I do prefer to know that those around me don't feel the way that I do sometimes. Having someone to rely on, even if it's for a drink and not objectionable company, is something I feel is important."
John Constantine	"Have it your way then," John allows. He lifts his glass in toast to Wanda. "Guess the pessimists of the world would have one less thing to complain about if all the optimist were gone," he suggests. "And as long as you're buying, I'll keep drinking," he tells Wanda. "I wouldn't call myself the most stalwart of blokes but I like a decent drink and some pretty company as much as the next man. I mean--" he gestures, looking around Lux's sybaritic lounge. "There are worse places to pass a little time, yeah?"
Wanda Maximoff	"If you're not careful, you'll end up with expensive tastes," Wanda sounds almost as if she's playfully teasing there. "It's certainly a interesting place to hang out. Good for people watching. An excuse to get out and not think about..." She gestures towards the door. "Work." She lifts her glass in a bit of a toast. "I can't say I'm always an optimist." That's something she thinks about for a moment. "So maybe not an eternal optimist, but everyone has their ups and downs."
John Constantine	"Blind optimism's for children and fools," John advises Wanda. "Or drunks. Speaking of, cheers," he says, and sips more whiskey. The four stiff drinks in a row finally seem to be loosening the surly magus up a bit. "The difference between an optimist and a pessimist is that the optimist is happy in the moment because they believe it'll come again. A pessimist can be happy in the moment because they believe it *won't* come again. I prefer to be the second over the firs'," John tells Wanda. "That was I'm pleasantly surprised instead of constantly disappointed."