"Young, dumb and brave. Best combination for those who would die for their beliefs or freedom."
While he might not seem it, John Constantine could be patient and wait out someone as he was doing with Erskine. He wanted those eyes to meet his own, to know what he might be able to see there. A man who avoided such was either scarred deeply with PTSD (as might be with Erskine's story) or lying about something.
That question brought his easygoing, buying the drinks on someone else's tab at last call smile back. The calm even voice that had been trying to become a potentially hypnotic state faded back to his usual tones.
"My story? Not much to it, mate. I'm the bigger bastard of us. I'm a nasty piece of work. Ask anyone."
He was also often the last man standing. But why ruin a good false image like that?
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While he might not seem it, John Constantine could be patient and wait out someone as he was doing with Erskine. He wanted those eyes to meet his own, to know what he might be able to see there. A man who avoided such was either scarred deeply with PTSD (as might be with Erskine's story) or lying about something.
That question brought his easygoing, buying the drinks on someone else's tab at last call smile back. The calm even voice that had been trying to become a potentially hypnotic state faded back to his usual tones.
"My story? Not much to it, mate. I'm the bigger bastard of us. I'm a nasty piece of work. Ask anyone."
He was also often the last man standing. But why ruin a good false image like that?