"He might very well bloody be." Constantine blinks, eyeing Marston all of the sudden. "Wait, you're cursed? Remind me later and I'll see what I can do about that."
He's figured out a few things about the man just from their drunk shenanigans, but cursed and specifics of that curse isn't one of them. Unless of course John Marston is cursed to have to play handler to reckless drunks, that would make sense. "The Allfather has been known to give a boon if the mood suits him. I got whiskey to go along with that choice bit of information from the alter. That's more along the lines of my kind of god given gift."
Still, a moment of light drunken humor fixes nothing. And Constantine goes quiet for a moment as the information they've shared sinks in properly. They're so thoroughly fucked unless a miracle happens. There's no hope unless they can properly dig in and get more secrets. And John Constantine is good at that, damn good, but there's always a cost to be had. And here, it could be great.
He doesn't want to think about that right now. But he doesn't have time to sink into drunk delusions, his companion speaks again and he's got a point that John does not like one bit but thinks is right on the money. "Sounds about right. Maybe we're all ripe for the picking, but even a hotel might have preferences. Some monsters like the taste of fear, or anguish. So perhaps power, or even protectiveness is the seasoning to the meal here." He groans, and gestures at the door. "I think we've wasted enough time here. Let's get our bounty and get the fuck out of this shitty lounge. You'd think a murder hotel would at least make it's inner chambers interesting."
no subject
He's figured out a few things about the man just from their drunk shenanigans, but cursed and specifics of that curse isn't one of them. Unless of course John Marston is cursed to have to play handler to reckless drunks, that would make sense. "The Allfather has been known to give a boon if the mood suits him. I got whiskey to go along with that choice bit of information from the alter. That's more along the lines of my kind of god given gift."
Still, a moment of light drunken humor fixes nothing. And Constantine goes quiet for a moment as the information they've shared sinks in properly. They're so thoroughly fucked unless a miracle happens. There's no hope unless they can properly dig in and get more secrets. And John Constantine is good at that, damn good, but there's always a cost to be had. And here, it could be great.
He doesn't want to think about that right now. But he doesn't have time to sink into drunk delusions, his companion speaks again and he's got a point that John does not like one bit but thinks is right on the money. "Sounds about right. Maybe we're all ripe for the picking, but even a hotel might have preferences. Some monsters like the taste of fear, or anguish. So perhaps power, or even protectiveness is the seasoning to the meal here." He groans, and gestures at the door. "I think we've wasted enough time here. Let's get our bounty and get the fuck out of this shitty lounge. You'd think a murder hotel would at least make it's inner chambers interesting."