It occurs to Constantine that something had Happened to Crowley when he broke into his flat in Mayfair and instead found some other demon staking out the place. He barely asked what the demon had done this time; a flicker of a spell he kept constantly prepared after the last year or so with the Legends sent the creature packing. And he was sure that the message the John Constantine had shown up with a vendetta looking for Crowley would make sure that he had some time to himself in the flat.
Unfortunately a search of the rest of the flat turned up nothing besides the fact that Crowley wasn't here. Something he'd already figured from the quick bit of banishment that he'd had to do already. But that wasn't about to stop him. Constantine was here for answers and he was bloody well going to get them.
"I tried this all polite for you." It was muttered angrily as Constantine shoved the minimal furniture out of the way, clearing a space to start drawing a complex sigil. As he finished the last strokes, something about it changed and looking directly at it made his eyes want to crawl out of his skull. It was working at least.
"Can't say I didn't give you a chance to have a polite chat about it." Several black candles were set around the mark and, taking a step back to check that he hadn't missed anything (the sick, crawling feeling in his gut indicated he hadn't), Constantine drew a dagger.
"Lets see you try and avoid this summoning then."
He spoke then, words few humans could manage and the complex sound of Crowley's true name that somehow seemed to writhe in the air. The dagger he drew across his palm, immediately pressing his lips to the wound to suck in his own blood and spray it across the sigil, an preternatural shriek filling the air as the candles burst into flames and Constantine focused on reaching for wherever this sorry excuse for a demon was and yanking him back here.
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timeasmymeasure
/kicks open the door
Date: 2023-09-09 02:38 am (UTC)Unfortunately a search of the rest of the flat turned up nothing besides the fact that Crowley wasn't here. Something he'd already figured from the quick bit of banishment that he'd had to do already. But that wasn't about to stop him. Constantine was here for answers and he was bloody well going to get them.
"I tried this all polite for you." It was muttered angrily as Constantine shoved the minimal furniture out of the way, clearing a space to start drawing a complex sigil. As he finished the last strokes, something about it changed and looking directly at it made his eyes want to crawl out of his skull. It was working at least.
"Can't say I didn't give you a chance to have a polite chat about it." Several black candles were set around the mark and, taking a step back to check that he hadn't missed anything (the sick, crawling feeling in his gut indicated he hadn't), Constantine drew a dagger.
"Lets see you try and avoid this summoning then."
He spoke then, words few humans could manage and the complex sound of Crowley's true name that somehow seemed to writhe in the air. The dagger he drew across his palm, immediately pressing his lips to the wound to suck in his own blood and spray it across the sigil, an preternatural shriek filling the air as the candles burst into flames and Constantine focused on reaching for wherever this sorry excuse for a demon was and yanking him back here.