1965-02-04 - Death and Rummy
Summary: Lindon and Constantine have a chat.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
constantine lindon 


Lindon has tea brewed already. He's Lindon, so he's got tea on hand. Lamont is off doing Lamont things, and sometimes the house is just too big, so he comes back to his little apartment. Puck is with him, lounging on his lap, and he's got a book in hand. He's forcing himself to read it at a normal pace. It's excrutiating. He gives in and flips through it. There, done. It's no wonder he's always in need of new books.


Constantine looked like shit, honestly. Still he dropped in, as he does, bringing a wooden box under arm. "I meant to be here on teh hour not half seven." It was the closest John's come by way of apology in a time. He hasn't slept since he went tearing out of his flat, but has at least made contact and there was nothing too dubious in teh news. There was a ribbit from teh box.


Lindon scoots Puck off his lap to open the door. The kitten follows after Lindon, peeking out from behind Lindon's legs to gaze up at Constantine. Oh, good. Another provider of affection. Lindon smiles as he says, "It's all right, John, come in. Please, sit down. You look tired." He can be so politic. "I'll get you some tea." Which he goes to do, leaving Puck to follow John around. Lindon knows how John takes his tea and prepares it that way. "I was just doing a little light reading." There is a pile of books beside his chair. The box gets a curious look at the ribbit. "Friend of yours?"


Constantine trudged into teh living room and admitted, "Spot of tea'd be lovely." He eyes Puck eyeing him ad more so eyeing the box. "Puck, if you want to have to find your own food, by all means eat the frog." He set the locked box down, though it was adorned with small carvings in teh wood. "Your friend now. Just remember feed and water em. He'll… keep nosy spirits further away. Help blind the place to things spying on the other side."


Lindon comes round with the cuppa and hands it to John. "Oh, I'll get a terrarium," he says. The proper care and feeding of a frog is easy enough to figure out annnd there it is, locked in his brain. He scoops Puck up and says, "No frog dinners for you." Puck trills and purrs, because Lindon is his human and is giving him attention. Lindon settles on the couch, cat in lap, and tells John, "Thank you. I can use that sort of help right now."


Constantine considered that and shook his head, "Right now the box is part of the spell. There's slats in there though. It'll last for 7 days and then you can do as you will. I wanted to make sure you stayed hidden when I leave." He shook his head and sat with his tea, "Not bailing. Just going to Chicago to help one other I'm helping hide. Helping her find answers. Likely only a week or less. How you holding up? Got a deck of cards around here?"


Lindon nods and says, "I can work with that." That's going to be one pampered frog when this is all over. Lindon now knows so much about frog care herpetologists could learn from him. "You're leaving?" he says, looking to Constantine with his brow furrowed. "Just don't stretch yourself too thin, John," he says. He purses his lips, but leaves his nagging to only that. "I'm all right. I think I do in the desk drawer." He pets Puck, who dozes off on his lap, purring. "The driver takes alternate routes to get me between here and home. I've seen about working from home for awhile." He's quiet a moment, then he says, "It's surreal. I've been accosted before, but this is different. Knowing what I know."


Constantine got up as to not disturb the feline and wandered off for hte deck of cards. Tired eyes looked around the room. "You're taking good care of Kent. I want to let you know I appreciate that. Might not be entirely my place but… he is my only family." He looked back oddly sentimental for a mote of a moment. "DOn't look too much into that." Lindon was sentimental and John had a line where he and gushing agreed never to cross paths. "C'mon. We have time for a few hands o Rummy."


Lindon says mildly, "Thank you, John. It's a pleasure and an honor to have the chance to take care of him. He needs taken care of." He smiles crookedly and says, "I'll read nothing into it at all. You're just observing a kindness owed, nothing more." He could wink to punctuate the sentiment, but he doesn't. He takes a drink of his tea, sets aside the cup, and says, "All right, let's play a few rounds." The kitten stretches and mews in his sleep, and Lindon murmurs, "There's my good boy." The kitten purrs. They're kind of disgusting, these two. "So how's the household?" he asks. "You've got a preacher and vampire living with you, yeah?"


Constantine pulled out the cards and started cutting the deck with one hand. There was no news, and no crisis a new. Hewas forever embroiled in at least 4 it may seem, but it was better than beign bored. John COnstantine was not one to stand still be it travel to teh Andes to learn a new spell, or hunt packs of demons looking to bring plague upon all teh masses he stayed in motion; a magical shark. RIght now he was content to deal the cards out with an impish grin. "I'm not telling you the rules as I expect you know them. I'll let you figure them out." He winkedd to the Archive with an impish grin. He wasn't wrong but he was a dick. At least he was theirs.


Lindon grins at John. "I'm sure I can suss it out." He has in a few seconds figured out several permutations of the game. "Can you distract me with conversation?" he says. "It will help me not count cards." The problem was shutting that mind off, sometimes. In the spirit of distracting himself, he says, "So how did you meet Cassidy and the preacher? Whose name I can't remember, I'm afraid."


Constantine delt the cards and said, "Jesse… Custer." He wasn't entirely certain what he could tell because Genesis had her own shiels that hid her from heaven, hell and all inbetween. John knows because he lped primordial powers put them there. Hmmmm He surmised, "You remember when we were roommates, mate? And I told you once you were not the first book I bound? Well… not exactly? Jesse looks after other things of interest to me that…well… I finished birthing into this world after other people make a mess of everything." He chuckled, "Somewhat like Kent did for me I suppose. Cass came with Jess and we… have been looking for God to hold his bitch tits to task. I went looking for my something of interest, rant into them, and found out we had some mutual disagreement about angels. Been mates since."


"I only have a vague memory of that time," Lindon says. "I remember you saying that though, because it was comforting that you'd done this before." His cheeks flush when John mentions God's bitch tits, and once his hand is played, he says, "John." The name is spoken like a mild admonishment. Just a mild one. Lindon's not that great of a Catholic. Clearly. "Don't you worry that the weight of God's creation will crush you if it bears down on you?"


Constantine flung a pair of threes down on the table and drew a card confiding a truth "What's he going to do to me? I'm already going to hell and that' the simple truth of it." He didn't look up. Lindon could rifle through all he know and come up with an ugle green checkmark confirming that very startling truth. "Way it actually works is Hell reclaims its own. I… screwed the pooch at birth and even if that wasn't held against me? well… don't much matter." He shrugged and said, "But… short answer? No. Can't be afraid of what is inevitable. But… I can play these three tens, and that? is a good thing."


Lindon watches John, his expression mild as a lamb's. As ever. "It raises the question: is there anything worse than Hell?" He lifts his teacup to his lips. "I admit, I can't even begin to fathom the nature of God. I just know that all our holy men and books and searching has uncovered barely a fraction. I can get a sense of presence though, and it's big, John. Scary-big. I'd be afraid of it just looking at me kindly let alone mad."


Constantine laid the three 10's down and drew up another card. Lindon was asking the big big question. "Only one thing that comes to mind." He glanced up immediately recalling Astra, "Being sent there when you did nothin wrong." Which turns out doing that to someone? Great fucking way to get a Fast Pass for that queue to get into the 9 rings of pain, fire, and eternal disappointments. "Just becase things above and below gave up on this place doesn't mean that we have to." Grizzled, and bitter, but the Guardian of Humanity somehow still hasn't given up on everyone though his grouses endlessly.


"Philosophers throughout the ages are turning in their graves," Lindon says. He sets his teacup aside and looks at his cards. "So much of our belief about the nature of things assumes human exceptionalism. Tell me, do you know when God and the Devil stopped caring about the Earth?" He lays down a trio of eights and draws a card.


Constantine hmmmed and hawed over his hand sucking in his cheeks. One hand rubbed against his stubble thoughtfully. "I think around '41 if I had to venture a guess. According to sources? Luce ain't the only one who hasn't exactly been at his desk. But that's tween you, I and hte radiator." He looked up with a faint narrowing of his eyes, "Oy, and tell Michael to stay out of my bloody basement."


Lindon's brows lift as he says, "Your basement? All right, but you realize I have no authority over him. I'll try to impress upon him how a need for privacy is a very human thing, something he could learn from." After all, Michael's there to learn, is he not? After a moment, Lindon says, "Do I even want to know what's in your basement?"


Constantine drew another card and drank his tea toughtfully, "Lindon, you have enough to worry about. You needn't worry about me, what is or isn't in any basement that may or may not be present. It may not even be sensibly safe for us to leave our homes. You were a moment from being driven right to Hargrove. I'll worry about me, Lin. Be assured I always do. Ask Kent." If anyone could testify to John's survival instincts…


"Elmo saved me," Lindon says. "Which isn't to say you're wrong, I was lucky to have him there. It's just that he deserves the credit." He looks over his cards, quick eyes darting as he works out calculations in the air. Is math on his side? Can he win the round? One of the sharpest processing powers alive right now and he's using it on rummy. "I'm going to be working from home when they can spare me," he says. "The manor. I suppose this place is already warded, but I should really ask Kent to be sure. I'm sure it is, though. He wouldn't leave it unwarded."


Constantine shook his head, "Don't care how it fucking got, resolved mate. It became a problem is the issue. we're not just worried about your bloody safety or convenience you know that, yeah?" His cards folded towards him and he waited for Lindon to focus. The words were blunt, but not harsh. He didn't fault Lindon. It was a hard spot to be in. "They get their hands on you and humanity falls. Hundred of thousands if not more suffer. Souls obliterated denied any respite in the afterlife. No one gives a flying fuck aboutthe library, I'm sorry. This is serious, and frankly? I don't want to have to stomach burying another mate if it's all the same to you."


"I'm aware of the severity, John," Lindon says, placid and calm at least on the outside. "Especially since I have no intention of making it to Hargrove alive." He lays down four sevens. Must be his lucky day. "I care about the library, precisely because no one else does. I care about my work. It makes me human. If I just give up those things, I really am just a relic that walks and breathes and thinks it's a man. Besides, with nothing to do, I'll fixate."


Constantine sighed and offered, "You didn't ask for this but better a relic or a dead man compromising all of humanity? When this is over you can go back. I know it's not what you want to hear but as a concerned party… and your friend? It's a problem. It's not a forever choice. I'd start working from home sooner than later."


Lindon looks up from his cards to John. "I've made the arrangements, and I can get away with it for awhile. On days where I absolutely have to come in, I'll have Kent traveling with me. I won't even see James there. It looks like his family are going upstate anyway, if that's where Kent said his place was?" He has trouble remembering some things. Not surprising given how much information passes through his mind in a day. "I realize the fate of the world is at stake, and I don't put myself above that. Just… scary things can happen to people when you keep them under lock and key. You know that."


|ROLL| Constantine +rolls 1d20 for: 9


Constantinelooked to Lindon and listened. John was pretty unflappable from years of seeing too much, and being responsible for too many hard choices that came at the suffering of others for the greater good… and sometimes just his own personal gain. Still, that behind him his expression softened. "I know mate. It's sometimes scarier when they're not. Bottom line? The world is terrifying and this job of ours ain't fun. We have to take from it some… comfort that what we give up is for the best interest of others and hold onto that or else? Well, we'll go bloody mand again, mate." He had to smile a bit at that since it was how they met.


Lindon smiles faintly and nods his head. "I know," he says quietly. "Whatever plan Kent comes up with, I'll comply entirely. The last thing you're going to have to worry about is a rebellious me trying to prove I don't need any of this. I'm well aware the more mystics I have on my side the better, and that without you all, I'm small and crushable." If his ego takes a hit admitting it, he doesn't show it. It was a rational sentiment anyway, why bring ego into it at all?


Constantine reaches out with one warm hand and rest it on Lindon's forearm, "Alone we're all dead men truthfully. Even the best of us are better with a good team… and never under any circumstances, tell Kent or Strange I ever sad that or I'll dogear all your books. Right?" There was a wink that followed as John sat back and laid down three Jacks finally.


Lindon grins and ducks his head. "Mum's the word," he says. "I'll take it to my grave." He knows John's joking, but his gaze strays toward his bookshelves anyway. His babies. "You know," he says, "aside from Hargrove trying to destroy the world, I've been quite lucky. I've got nothing to complain about. The greatest minds of our time are putting their thoughts toward my safety, and none of them have come up with stuffing me in a mirror dimension until it all blows over."


Constantine gave a shifty eyed look and hung his head, "Actually a few of us have been wardin the outside of the house when we come in. Sooooo it has happened on occasion." He wasn't going to apologize for it either. Takning a deep breath he murmured, "I thought about sleeping in one honestly, but then if I do need backup it leaves me a mite bit limited."


Lindon's smiles comes despite himself, and he says, "I think that's all right, that you guys did that. Like I said, I'm lucky to have so many brilliant minds bent toward my survival, even if it is mostly the Archive needing protected. It's why I take this seriously, John. I'm my own last line of defense, and of course I'll survive as best I can, but you know what will happen if I have to choose between dying and being exploited. You're the only one I can mention it to."


Constantine set his cards face down on the table and watched Lindon. There was no emotional outpouring. They both knew acutely the lives of so many at stake. He really hated this aspect of his job and truthfully it weighed heavily on his heart. He promised, "If you can't? I will. I'd rather have everyone alive to hate me than have everyone dead or as some soulless puppet." Taking a deep breath he offered, "I found my file Hargrove had on me. I gave it to Michael to assess to see if there's any questions I need be asking that I'm missing. Find us a lead. See how he knows things." John's jaw set. He didn't like being canibalized for parts and being hunted to be used to harm the people he cared about less. "I got me a contingency plan too… If we can not mention that to Kent though?" THat was actually his pain point.


Lindon nods once and says, heartfelt, "Thank you, John." Kent would never do it, and even if he would, Lindon couldn't ask it of him. He tilts his head as he studies Constantine. "I won't tell him you have a contingency plan, but do you really want me to have it fresh in my mind? I have a hard time not conveying information. It's what my soul cries out for now." He bites his lower lip, then adds, "I just felt the need to point that out. I'll keep your secret, though."


Constantine shook his head, "IT's why we're not discussing it. I'm building a team to keep it a non-issue. But as I know you know it anyways?" He shrugged, "I thought best you heard it from me. I guess I'm alright with it however it sorts. Let's just workin you and I and our weird… team keep a few hundred thousand people alive starting with Alex Cohen." He laid down a card, "Rummy on your queens. Not a euphamism."


"Right," Lindon says. Then he looks at the cards on the table. "Right," he says again with a wry twist of his lips. "The round is yours." There were only a few possible outcomes left in the cards, and none of them favored Lindon. "You'll find him," he says. "Hargrove, I mean. Regardless of his physical proximity, there's nothing he can do without leaving a trace. He's got to know we'll find him."


Constantine considered that, "The trick is not doing it when he wants us to. But… that's work and what we already know." He considered something perhaps off topic, "You still talk to your mum, Lindon?" He didn't say why he was asking, and perhaps a change of topic? Perhaps for a reason. Finally, quietly, he offered, "Dunno how long I'll be gone. I got someone watchin my place, but I'll be sure to check in with you. You should start to get in the habit of letting the phone ring once, stop, and pick it up when they call right back. This way if it's someone else tracking you they won't be able to know you're home nad where you are." Sensible.


Lindon shakes his head and says, "No, my mom and dad passed away awhile ago." He smiles weakly. "I wish I did. There's so much I wouldn't tell her, but I'd enjoy the hemming and hawing around it." He nods then to the phone advice. "I can do that. I'll tell the people who need to know I'll call them back." He takes a deep breath, lets it out, and says, "I won't let you down, John. When you come back, I'll be safe and sound."


Constantine bggled, "How would you know we called? Jus thave us call, one ring. Hang up. Then we wait a second and call back. You can pick it up then andit should be safe, Outside of that… might be a way to talk to your mum I reckon. Honestly? Best to let the bird rest."


"I mean… yes, that." Lindon gave Constantine an apologetic look. "You have to understand, it's all words in my head swirling around all the time. Sometimes full-fledged notions. I heard what you said." He sighs quietly, then give John a wry arch of a brow. "Yes, I think I'll let my poor mother rest in peace. One of the few blessings in her passing is how she doesn't have to know any of this is happening."


Constantine actually won a hand. Nice. Very nice. He had to ask letting the issue of Lindon's mother go to rest, "Kent ever teach you scrying basics with a back of 52?" He held up the deck collecting all the cards, and slowly shuffled them using jsut the fingers on his right hand.


Lindon shakes his head and says, "I've never actually performed any magic. I just know what I know." He watches the shuffling, then looks away as he catches himself counting cards and looking for patterns again. It's habit. If he ever went to Vegas he'd get rich or run out on a rail. "How reliable is it?" he asks. "The scrying."


Constantine considered that and smirked, "If you're Kent or other people?" Not a barb, but a point of pride and amusement. "Kent? Always accurate within the realm of perception. Mine? I trust it but always fact check anything I see scrying or with my own eyes anways. But, there's a way to practice it. I'm tno talking scrying the future, I'm talking reading cards." He flippes the deck over and shuffled dealing 5 cards face down. "You can start playing higher lower. is t 8 or higher or 7 or lower. from there figure colour. After that start playing hunt the ace and hit the bullet every time." As if to demonstrate he flipped the 4th card, the ace of diamonds over. An eyebrow arched. "GOod way to hone a skill, but also not go mad waiting. I was healing uop after a particularly nasty round about. Kent sat me down tells me 'JOhnny, Let's have you focus all that energy, yeah lad?' and had me take the cards and put them back in factory order face down until I could do it every time."


"All right," Lindon says slowly. "Does it require a mystic's talent? Because I'm not sure if I have any. Strange thinks it might be repressed and I tend to agree." He sits up to watch more closely, his attention captured if nothing else.


Constantine went through like a card sharp sorting the cards laying them out. "Dunno. But you have the ability to know things written and the like. Should be enough. Either way? Good practice. Saved my arse a couple times." He considered and grinned, "If nothing else really impresses at the pub."


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