1965-04-28 - You remembered the spring rolls
Summary: The battle plans get drawn, now with kung pao and spring rolls
Related: None
Theme Song: None
morbius cassidy constantine 

Constantine had cleaned. Really it was freaky. One might accidentally find something they need. Radio silence yeilds a neat room? Interesting. Still, it was worth noting. Today there was, in preparation for the great hnt, many many maps and so much Chinese food.

Cassidy had parked his ass in a corner, perhaps keeping an eye on the room due to the suspicious levels of cleanliness. However, he had a chinese food container in one hand and chopsticks in the other, shoveling lo mein into his face while he watched Constantine go about his preparations.

Michael helps himself to the house, as he has since—well since before his little face-melting episode. Opening the front door with increasing familiarity each time, his steps trod light on the floorboards in the soft, synchopated pattern unique to the faux-pire. A plastic bag dangling from one hand, the smell wafting from it harmonizing from the chinese food in the room.

Michael is already looking around suspiciously when he comes upon the room with Cass and John. An upswept eyebrow arched in a somewhat worried expression, glancing over each shoulder. "Were you set upon by a cleaning goblin? Cassidy, hello."

Constantine arched one eyebrow and looked vvaguely upward. Did he use gross magic? Eh, only in a utilitarian aspect, not in the absolute just because he could. He looked and upnodded vaguely. "Mifull." Can't enunciate. Eating. Once clear he corrected slightly, "Need to know if anythings missing later if it becomes important and I find my way back here. How are we this evening." He looked to Cass and commeted, "You remember all of MIchael, yeah?"

"Technically I only remember part of Michael," Cassidy says to Constantine with a smirk, and then he looks over to Michael and lifts his container in greeting, "You're lookin' a good sight better, mate. Good t'see you again." He then glances over at John and says, "/If/ it becomes important that you find your way back? You're findin' your way back, no matter what." He smirks just a bit and then continues to chow down on his noodles. He has no preparations to make. Cassidy jut sort of throws a couple of things in a duffle and is ready to go at a moment's notice. Preparations aren't really his thing.

Setting the neatly bound collection of containers on the nearest mostly level space near John, Michael stares at the exorcist as if to say 'here', and making some vague point with the gesture. "Yes. Thanks to yourself." Morbius breaks from John and turns toward Cassidy, tipping his head with obescience toward the other vampire; his gratitude comes in small gestures, even when intended for the greatest amounts.

Elongated fingers carefully untie the handles of the plastic bag, dropping a carton of spring rolls directly beside Constantine before he takes the second carton in the palm of his hand and moves to find a place to perch. He listens in silence for the moment, bouncing black pupils back and forth between the two men.

Constantine actually paused and STARED at the spring rolls. Finally the Brit blinked. "Gonna be a long night then." He seemed to take this in stride…withthe dinner roll. MmMMmmmm. Long, weathered fingers pointed a fork at the other end of the work table and looked to Morbius. "One of those by you is for you incidently. You just saved me a trip, mate." He considered the spring roll a moment longer and the smile, though genuine, was also a tad soured, "We sure we want that Cass? When I get my hands on Hastings they ain' comin off. Strange can cope." Still he considered Cassidy's announcement with a nod. He knew better than to try to fight a battle he wouldn't win, one, and SOMETIMES he actually refrained from trying anyways. "S'what I like about you, Cass. Never letting some preachy ideal stop you from a good time or what need be comin."

Cassidy gives a broad grin to Michael and a bit of a salute as though it were nothing at all. Technically, it wasn't a great expenditure of effort on his part, all things considered. "Any time. Well, hopefully not any time, but you know what I mean," he grins. His lo mein is twirled on his chopsticks and popped into his mouth, washed down by a swallow straight from the whiskey bottle. He smirks at John then and says, "I don' care if you twist his head clean off. An' I don't know who this strange bloke is, but he can sod off. Unless he's got some reason he wants this guy alive, and if he does, then maybe he oughta go find him his own damn self."

"Do you have nights other than long ones, John?" Morbius hums with feigned innocence in his tone, tongue delicately clicking against the backs of his teeth a little more pronounced than usual to pour on the act. "How novel. When did you start that practice?" Settling in, there's a secondary glance as an after thought toward the other end of the work table as indicated. "I'm very intuitive that way." Taking the full advantage of the credit.

A smile pressed to his slightly bulged lips at Cassidy's welcome, Morbius chortles mildly in some deep part of his throat. "I understand. Yes. And Strange is the sorcerer supreme." As if that means anything to Cassidy. Michael amends shortly after. "He's the magical protector of this realm, so they say. His ego matches the title, but his power is quite formidable. As is his wife's. Though they seem slightly divorced from the 'dirty work' aspect of matters, if I may say so." Settling in, he inhales a deep breath and opens up his little parcel of general tsao's. "He's not disagreeable, otherwise. Except for when trying to kill you. Then he's a bit grating."

Constantine pointed the fork back to Morbius struggling to remain his uaual flippant manner. "Yeah, well there's that." Lookig up he looked from the undead man to the un-undead one and boggled at them, "I mean to be fair I did lead off with Magic is bullshit and wizards are all self-aggrandizing arrogant prats." It's true. He did. He didn't even feign exclusion.

Looking to Michael he sighed having gone through his epic fallout and subsequent complimentary extinguishing with Cassidy. Now there was a plan and revenging and maybe doing the right thing in there somewhere? "Short story: We got played, luv. Aloys set me up and was working for Hargrove. Had a partner I never knew about. THey stole the ritual and Aloys used Hargrove's ritual on me to try to eat my soul and take my power for himself…only someone else already has it hence… the problem." He took a deep breath wincing one eye. "And also I have been able to reckon, why you got melted, Michael. Now, I tried to summon up my belated ex to stuff his soul into an oven mitt, but, seems Hargrove has it or Hayden Sterling does." He was honestly beyond caring about 'who was responsible for what' and was comfortably into 'bitches all gonna get a reckonin phase. God he's been hanging out with Jesse too long. Taking a deep breath he looked from Morbs to Cass and siad, "I suppose there'll be some questions, but beyond rectifying why I wasted 17 years being lied to? I don't have the energy to be worked up over much else so if you have questions, mates, by all means, know what we're getting into because this situation is proper fucked."

Filling in those details, Michael starts in on his food and all, only to find himself pausing after the first bite, chopsticks hanging loosely from his fingers while he slowly rolls a piece of chicken around in his mouth. The seas of red that served as windows to his soul narrowed slightly—difficult to tell if it's in speculation or irritation with the good doctor's poise and all at this point, though there is a pulse of sickly crimson light which emanates onward, bright for a moment then dimming to a low glow.

"Hm," Michael hums decisively, stabbing his chopsticks into his carton as he looks down, moving his chicken and veggies around with more force than necessary. "Well, now I'm glad that we had sex in his bed, and I bled rotting flesh all over it," responding with a very neat airiness to it and no small amount of pettiness. Because Morbius isn't beneath little 'fuck yous'. Just ask Lindon.

"So what is the move?"

Constantine sucked at his eyetooth and hadn't… actually planned on having a mob. Still they were pragmatic about these things and for once he was brazenly honest. "Well they tried to take from me what's mine, I'm going to repay the favour and show them how a Necromancer does this shit and rip his still beating heart out of his hollow chest and get the answers I want and from that? Find us Hargrove." He tapped the spring roll against his finger thoughtfully not one to play a flailing wounded creature for long. It wasn't any way to be and frankly? He was quite petty in spirit and actually grinned at the satisfaction of Michael's spite. "Well, sure there is that. Hell if he could convince me without lying that it all wasn't a set up I might even forgive him for tryin to kill me. Weren't like I was totally honest with him about what I am." He shrugged.

"So next? Next we use some divination without involving Lamont by whatever means necessary to do that. Spalding's got some… cloaking on him. He's planning on being tracked by a magi but not… a PI and Wizards can get a tad sloppy on that front." Looking to Michael and Cass he did manage a "I appreciate the support in this. I doubt Lamont or Strange will be quite as understanding in this though we might all be surprised."

"Why do we need to involve them at all?" Michael asks neatly on the heels of John's concerns. His eyes lift once more from his carton, looking back and forth between both Cassidy and Constantine with an expectantly open look. Blunt. He was unhappy at the moment, and it came out in clean, crisp lines and candid brutality. "You have two natural predators willing to assist you, and for as much fun as magic may be, I have yet to meet a wizard who didn't sweat or bleed—albeit acidic blood, I suppose."

Cassidy shrugs his shoulders with his usual laissez-faire. There's a whole lotta words being said and he's heard the story three or four times now, so he's mostly checked out while he eats his lo mein and drinks his whiskey. There's the occasional glance to Michael since Michael's reactions are really the only thing that's new in this scenario. He does nod along in agreement on the point that there were in fact two natural predators willing to assist, and that Wizards tend to bleed. He points his chopsticks in Morbius' direction and then says, "Any reason we need them?"

Constantine shook his head and shrugged, "None. Well… he might lock me in a widget somewhere an' get pissy. Like t'see em try. Might not do nothin at all. End of the day? These updates is a courtesy. I'm here t' get this job done, mate." Cassidy, you have a point. He took a deep breatha nd shifted his jaw quiet before nodding. "Right. Tomorrow we take the scraps of what we know… and Aloys' phone book, and start digging. I'm assuming he had a way to communicate and really if we want to make this quick? Well hell the bastard's looking for me anyways. We can really bait him with his own trap."

Gratified when Cassidy agree with him, there's a nod toward his fellow blood-sucker. Then another word to Constantine about Consequences. "Do they honestly care as long as the problem is remedied?" Morbius points out, only half a question. "Lamont is covetously guarding his relic, but honestly, aside from that, what is their investment? They're in hermitage mode, rather than proactive, and quite honestly, I am chafing from it."

Expediency and Efficiency: Michael's anti-drug.

"Who is this Spalding fellow?"

Cassidy listens to the pair of them and nods a bit. He finishes off his lo mein and then goes to toss out the container and used chopsticks, before hoisting his bottle of whiskey. "A'right.. I gotta slide out for a little bit. You figure out the plan an' point me at what needs stabbed, punched, or a broken bottle jammed in 'er an' I'm good t'go. I should also go tell Jesse that I'm plannin' to do this fool thing and will be gone for.. whatever long it takes us to get 'er done." And with that he starts climbing up the steps.

Constantine upnodded to Cass as he headed back up the stairs. Turning back to his pork rice he shook his head. "Cheers, mate." John shook his head trying to sort out the truths to science it out as it were. "I dunno. Honestly, Lamont's the only thing survivin I got even close to family. SOmetimes he sticks his nose up things. Everyone gets antsy when we start workin withthe dead. Thin line there mate as I'm sure you grasp why on many an account." He paused and his eyes narrowed to Michael, "Because you're a bloody physician, not because you're Catholic." Back to that just in case. He bit his spring roll in half trying to sum up Spalding. "Seems to be Aloys' old business partner and sometimes contact. I remember him enough to pick him out of a line up. Also someone I might have helped find things I really now wish I haden't but it's not like this is anyone's first regret in life. So here we are."

"I am Greek Orthodox," Morbius corrects, looking up and narrowing his eyes right back at John. Parry.

"All right so you know what he looks like, but what do we know about him?" Michael prods further while he jabs a bit of chicken poised between chopsticks in John's direction. "He's warded. Shielded. Whatever word it is you used. So how do we get to him? I presume we're going after him first? To gather your much beloved ex lover so we can put him into an oven mitt, so on, so forth?"

Constantine muttered, "Pyromancers with hellfire weilding oven mitts need always be questioned. But, being sensible chaps? I figure we hit up the man withthe one sick kid who owes us a favour. See if he's still got contacts." Looking up to Michael he was almost reluctant to even share any more. FOr whatever his reasons he did. "Far as I've been able to sort Spalding's knacks center around not being found. It's why finding him? It about guarantees us catching him unprepared. We find out where he's at or how to get to him. Let the word get to him that John COnstantine has been found. What that's going to do though is also alert Hargrove who has been hunting my pasty ass like a nun with a ruler." This was where partonizing humor came in like a dry red wine, "Those are the verbose penguins armed with measuring impliments and holy wrath. Surprisingly fun at parties. In short? It's going to put the end game a hell of a lot closer. Oh well."

Morbius fixes Constantine with a long look when the exorcist matches his gaze for gaze, brief as it may be. He was pushing, but he was tired of the waiting. Tired of the fear. Healthy once more, this was as close as he was going to get to being useful in this situation.

"So we're using you as a carrot. And you don't think that getting word to him will seem suspicious? Out of the blue, even. The mechanics don't seem to be cohesive." Michael sighs and leans back in his seat, gesturing out with one spindle-fingered hand. "Can't I just dangle him by his toes and let Cassidy make thinly veiled threats about how it takes longer to die if we start from the outside and work our way in? Find this soul you're looking for and press it for information on Hargrove? Not that I'm opposed to dangling you out there like a worm on a hook, but it seems foolish to risk an asset when there are alternatives."

Constantine used Michael as a sounding board for a reason. He was reliably pragmatic and reasonable. John, likewise, accepted that maybe revenge was clouding his judgement a tad. "Eeeeh Thought has merit. THey been looking for me for a while and trap or no? I just have a feeling he'll come running. GOod news is having that ritual used on me I got a great view of how to perform the damned thing." He paused and considered the utter level of frankness he might use with Micahel and squint at him, "If I were to hypothetically tear his heart out and eat it and his soul with it would you have any absurd objections?" It was so much easier asking this of hemovores.

The pale creature looked up and across the way to his companion as he picked around certain veggies in his container, poising his chopsticks thoughtfully inside with long fingers still wrapped around them. It was with candidness he replied, "Despite my additionally more feral personality traits and urges, I'm generally not a man who enjoys violence."

A beat of pause to let that settle in.

"That said, I know there are times in which violence is necessary. I swore to myself, only the wicked. Only the deserving. If there were ever a man who was deserving, I'd say it was this one." Michael tilts his head slightly to one side, peering straight into John's eyes. "But are you prepared for the effect that would have on you?"

Constantine looked up letting his eyes fall on Michael's as he weighed out the morality of things. Natural killer or not it didn't mean he lacked discretion and decency which, honestly, John respected. That question though? Well that was what one called a million dollar question. A faint shake of his head followed, "We'll see. It's what led me to being one of the damned to begin with, at the risk of entirely melodramatic. But… it did save my arse didn't it, though… didn't seem to do you much good." Taking a deep breathhe murmured, "A tool is a tool. I'm working at making peace with never wandering back into Heaven's good graces. Maybe it'll do better for someone else, but if I try to make this sound altruistic I'd be talking out of my ass. He needs to be put to ground. The rest? Purely the satisfaction of vengeance. And I can't honestly say I'm prepared for much much less the truth of it and yet here we are with our bollocks flapping in teh breeze like some dementia patient on the ovverpass. What the hell we doin? Well we will find out."

A corner of Michael's lips lifted vaguely in a twitch. "I got better. And at the risk of being lewd, the events leading up to the moment made the sting much easier to bear."

"I wouldn't judge you for it, if you decided on it. I would worry. but," Michael glances back down at his food again, dismissive. "I worry now just as well. I hate how this chews on you, John. I see it every passing day. Cassidy does as well, I'm sure. The quicker we can correct all this, the better."

Constantine reached across teh table and laid one hand across Michael's curled up fingers to give his hand a squeeze that read: Cheers, mate. He said no more on the matter but for, "Well since you brought hte spring rolls you might as well stay a while. I can show you where we have maps for and I included the charming list of events in a timeline for you so you don't have to listen to pretentious wizard speak on it. God knows we love to sound like we knew every-fucking-thing all along. Gooooood we are prats." He sighed finally admitting though it may be the thing that kills him, "I appreciate you coming back."

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