"Suppose the sooner we figure it out the better. Not that we'll be given much time to sit around and think about it."
John's not quite sure if it'll be easy to do. Especially with how the place is determined to make sure that he sits around and drinks about it. But it's hardly impossible. He's tenacious, he thinks that Marston is a damn good ally to have in this endeavor, and they have at least the other Constantine to fall back on. Maybe that Thor too, and that Jesse bird. So they're not entirely without options. And he grabs his loot, with considerable more struggle than his companion, he's not meant for physical strength after all.
He'll just awkwardly follow Marston out from here.
"Undead, hmm?" John would have left it. There are so many types of undead, so many cursed based ones too. A handful come to mind, few allow such luxuries as this man seems to be able to enjoy but then again depending on the item given that could negate a good deal. But as he speaks again, John is starting to form ideas and sound ones. But he's also delightfully pleased at meeting someone of this sort, if his ideas are correct anyway, that's actually pleasant. And he goes a bit quiet as he listens, thinking probably too hard as far as what to say. His voice stays low, and he thinks he's got it after a moment or two. He won't be offensive, he won't be too blunt, he won't be an asshole this time.
"So. As far as the legions of the sucking undead go, you're a nice enough bloke. Most of them are festering shitbags. Meeting you makes up for the king, he was an absolute bloody tosser." There, that's perfectly fine. And he didn't even say the V word.
no subject
John's not quite sure if it'll be easy to do. Especially with how the place is determined to make sure that he sits around and drinks about it. But it's hardly impossible. He's tenacious, he thinks that Marston is a damn good ally to have in this endeavor, and they have at least the other Constantine to fall back on. Maybe that Thor too, and that Jesse bird. So they're not entirely without options. And he grabs his loot, with considerable more struggle than his companion, he's not meant for physical strength after all.
He'll just awkwardly follow Marston out from here.
"Undead, hmm?" John would have left it. There are so many types of undead, so many cursed based ones too. A handful come to mind, few allow such luxuries as this man seems to be able to enjoy but then again depending on the item given that could negate a good deal. But as he speaks again, John is starting to form ideas and sound ones. But he's also delightfully pleased at meeting someone of this sort, if his ideas are correct anyway, that's actually pleasant. And he goes a bit quiet as he listens, thinking probably too hard as far as what to say. His voice stays low, and he thinks he's got it after a moment or two. He won't be offensive, he won't be too blunt, he won't be an asshole this time.
"So. As far as the legions of the sucking undead go, you're a nice enough bloke. Most of them are festering shitbags. Meeting you makes up for the king, he was an absolute bloody tosser." There, that's perfectly fine. And he didn't even say the V word.