[ Constantine blindly grabs for the buzzing noise near his head. He dimly thinks it might be a ward going off for a moment but the movement of it reminds him that it is, in fact, the stupid bloody phone he was forced to get. He says forced. He agreed to it. Only for the sake of the few people that care what might happen to him.
He finally grabs hold of it and groans as he hits "accept" before reading the caller id. John slumps back on the sofa, limbs askew and puts an arm over his face. ]
Whoever it is you'd better have a good sodding reason for waking me up at this hour.
[ that's a reason, right? he thinks it is. he's starving and he hates it and this and you and himself and everyone and why the hell hasn't someone sawed off his head ]
[ Dean's voice filters through the haze of exhaustion that seems to perpetually cling to him. He's shifting upright quick, knocking a few books off his lap that he'd been pouring over that thud heavily to the floor. ]
Yeah, knowing you you've gone and waited until you're half-starved to give me a call.
[ He groans as he shifts up to his feet, scrubbing his free hand over his face and then through his hair. ]
At least tell me I don't have to hop on a plane. I'm not in the mood to go conjuring up numbers for lottery scraps or conning some old bird out of enough to cover it.
[ Tell him you're in Atlanta at least. Or close. ]
[ Who would? No one. Or at least very few that don't fit in with the seriously deranged. ]
Oh, lucky me. Right, I'm halfway to decent. Give us a mo. [ He hangs up and grabs the closest pair of trousers, tugging them on as he goes and then the button down that he doesn't bother doing up as he heads for the door.
Stopping at the threshold, he holds a hand over the markings and utters an incantation. There's a bright amber glow before the wards fade. He opens the door and peeks out into the twilight surrounding the Millhouse. ] Hello, handsome. Come here often?
[ He grins, head tilting to the side as he looks over the other man. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spooky trash train incoming.
He finally grabs hold of it and groans as he hits "accept" before reading the caller id. John slumps back on the sofa, limbs askew and puts an arm over his face. ]
Whoever it is you'd better have a good sodding reason for waking me up at this hour.
[ Of the afternoon. ]
SPOOP
I'm hungry.
[ that's a reason, right? he thinks it is. he's starving and he hates it and this and you and himself and everyone and why the hell hasn't someone sawed off his head ]
no subject
Yeah, knowing you you've gone and waited until you're half-starved to give me a call.
[ He groans as he shifts up to his feet, scrubbing his free hand over his face and then through his hair. ]
At least tell me I don't have to hop on a plane. I'm not in the mood to go conjuring up numbers for lottery scraps or conning some old bird out of enough to cover it.
[ Tell him you're in Atlanta at least. Or close. ]
no subject
[ Want it, for a shitload of reasons. He still doesn't understand why someone hasn't put him out of his misery. He's begged, that's for sure. ]
No. I'm outside.
[ away from your damn wards and shit, Jesus Christ. ]
no subject
[ Who would? No one. Or at least very few that don't fit in with the seriously deranged. ]
Oh, lucky me. Right, I'm halfway to decent. Give us a mo. [ He hangs up and grabs the closest pair of trousers, tugging them on as he goes and then the button down that he doesn't bother doing up as he heads for the door.
Stopping at the threshold, he holds a hand over the markings and utters an incantation. There's a bright amber glow before the wards fade. He opens the door and peeks out into the twilight surrounding the Millhouse. ] Hello, handsome. Come here often?
[ He grins, head tilting to the side as he looks over the other man. ]
Let's get you inside already.