2012-07-05 Oblivion in Oblivion

After a rather interesting afternoon in the park. One she rather enjoyed, oddly enough, Satana spent part of her evening tracking down what, if any infomation she could find in reference to the talk she had with John earlier.

Afterwards, she had made her way to Oblivion and into the lounge in the back. A nice relaxing evening. She can be found stretched out on one of the sofa's with her eyes half lidded and a glass of red wine within arms reach.

Her foot is tapping to the music playing in the background and as a waitress comes over, a dismissive gesture is made before the girl can even speak. No disturbing the succubus right now.

Constantine has a love hate relationship with the bouncers of Oblivion. They can't out rightly deny him entry, since he knows the way, and they can't keep him barred either, since he quickly gobbles up any attempt they make to out wit him. They want to... They try.. but ultimately, they fail.

The old warlock pushes into the club proper with smoke bellowing out behind him from the cigarette yet dangling between his lips. Both hands shove down intothe long pockets of his coat and he meanders towards the bar to place a rather predictable order, "Scotch on the rocks... very few rocks."

With glass in hand, he too heads towards the back section of the lounge. Tilting his head with a little 'seriously' smirk when the man at the velvet rope initially starts to bar him entrance. Fandangling... huscowing.. and voila.

John is sliding down onto the couch beside Satana, "Christ, you think you could look a little more lazy?" Pulling over an ashtray and sucking scotch from his fingers where a bit spilled over the side.

Waste not want not.

"Satana. I think you've had enough to drink, John, baby. You're starting to confuse me with other people." When he settles on the couch next to her, her eyes open fully and she smirks. "Your whiskey or your smoke, love... Gotta share one of them."

Without any further warning, she shifts her body and starts to bring her head down to rest on his leg to use him as a pillow just as she threatened to do earlier. "And, actually, yes I probably could. I could have been completely asleep if I wanted to be."

"Fat fuckin' chance of that, love." John finishes cleaning his fingers of whiskey and instead drinks some straight from the source. There might be two more drags on the filtered cigarette between his fingers, however. The glass is set down and he pulls out the ever present crumpled pack of smokes, fitting a new one between his lips and using the amber of the first to light the new.

This done, he lets Satana have what was left, lowering it down to her lips with his two fingers extended out across her chin. "Yeah, you could be."

"So could I, you don't see me braggin' about it, do you?" Bouncing his leg a little, just so laying her head on it is less comfortable.

Her lips wrap around the butt of the cigarette that's offered, letting her fingers trail over his as she takes it from him. "Thanks, handsome." When he starts bouncing his leg, she smirks. "So contrary, Johnny..." And yet, she doesn't move her head from his lap.

She does watch him for a moment as she finishes off the cigarette before finally crushing it out in the ashtray. With a wink, her other hand slides up and into his jacket for the pack. Yeah, she'll owe him. "Trying to hide away from it all tonight, Johnny? Or are you hunting this evening?"

John drains the scotch to the ice and even sucks one of those into his mouth to clean the alcohol from the frozen cube. It's spit back into the glass and rattled emptily at a waitress. Not inviting her over to see if he wants a refill, not suggestively suggesting he could use one. Point blank demanding she get the whiskey here, now.

The snaking hand is given a perked brow, "Careful there, you'll lose your hand if you aren't careful..." There's no telling what he keeps in the pocket with those cigarettes. He really does like them, after all. "Some of both."

Absently answering her question. He doesn't prevent her reaching in for the smokes after his warning, but seriously... there's a silver flask in there somewhere. With a big ol cross on it.

His cigarette taps against the ashtray, smoke creeping up out of his mouth to fog in through his nostrils. "How about you? Lookin' for dinner?"

His glass rattling causes her to smirk a little. "Such a demanding man." There's a hint of amusement in her voice as says this. The waitress comes over with anew glass full of scotch and two ice cubes.

A glare is shot at them both, likely for different reasons, before she takes the old glass and walks way. Her actions cause Satana to simply chuckle at her. "Be nice, sweetheart." Yep. That Satana's tip for the evening.

With the waitress gone, those red eyes turn back to Constantine and she smirks. "Well... I'd almost say it's worth the risk." And there's that purr in her voice. "If I ask nice and promise to make it up to you, are you going to get me another?"

"Not at all, baby. I fed last night. Why? You offerin'?" Oh yes. Now she's definitely messing with him. She even leans close as if to ghost her lips over his again. "You'd be divine." And yet, no real conviction in her voice.

John cranes his neck backwards from Satana and arches his brow in a perfect rendition of 'woman, are you crazy' spelled out right there across his face. "Oy, you couldn't handle me." Which is not an invitation to try. His hand drops down into his coat and comes out with the cigarette pack. It's given a quick jerk with his wrist to bring one out from the others and lay the filter down against Satana's bottom lip once she's retreated back a breath from her ghosting.

The waitress served her purpose. She did her job. She is given no more attention than was required to get his scotch refilled. His own cigarette moves up to dangle from his lips so that the newly freed hand can grab the box of matches from the same pocket where he kept his smokes... and rattle it up by his ear... one.

There's always one.

Satana smiles oh so sweetly. Crazy? Mmm... Maybe touch. She's lived in Hell for her wole life. It's bound to mess ya up.

"Is that a challenge Johnny?" She quirks a brow at him and then the cigarette is taken with a grin. "So indulgent." She watches as he rattles the box and finally moves just enough that, unless he moves or stops her, she curled against his chest for support as she reaches for the box.

"You know... I sometimes think you're too afraid of what daddy dearest would do if he found out you touched his heir..." There's only partial amusement in her voice before she smirks. "How do you always manage to have just one match left?"

The box is moved out of her reach, when she reaches for it. His finger pushes the box open and the last match is taken, struck, and held out towards the end of her cigarette.

"I'm lucky." He says, matter of factly. Almost, what do you thinkish. Like she should know this and he's offended that he had to tell her.

"I don't give a rats nut sack what your da would say, love." Staring at her through the flame of the match slowly twisting between his fingers. One eye squinted, the other hazy with the dancing light infront of it.

"When I feel like being made a lunch menu item, though. I promise you'll be the first succubus I call." It's not exactly a promise, by the strictest interpretation... more of a consolation prize for having to deal with his iron clad will.

The man is a saint, damnit.

No, no he's not.

The cigarette is lit and a draw taken from it before it's removed from her lips. The smoke is held only for a moment before she exhales, kind enough to blow it away from his face. "You could be, love."

She watches him through the fire for a second before blowing on the match and then smirking. That dark and rich laughter flows from her and her eyes glow for a moment before settling down. "Is that what you think, baby? I can take you without ever tasting your sould John."

Another smirk and a wink is given before she leans in, fully intent on pressing her lips against his and truly kissing him this time. Thankfully, she really can control when she draws the soul from the body and she has no desire to turn this man over to her father.

Not at the moment, anyhow. Maybe later.

There's only so many times a guy can deflect advances of this magnitude and his deflector shields are, unfortunately, not operational. While he really doesn't want to get involved with a succubus, what with having bad experiences with one in particular... well they've got this semi private room... and her lips are /right there/.

So he kisses her.

It requires some quick grabbing of his cigarette before lips lock, but then... oh then... His hand is on the back of her neck massaging just beneath her hairline and mouths are open.

Then he turns his head away, just because he can, and replacing her tongue with his cigarette. Elbow leaning back against the cushions of the couch with one brow perked, "That's like an autograph is some circles, love..." Tickling her side with a calloused finger. "I wont even charge you."

Thankfully for him, she's not your average succubus. She also has absolutely no intention of letting him make the mistake of thinking she is. It's just downright insulting.

Long, slender fingers hook around the back of his neck and curl into the hair there. Her tongue tastes and explores and when he breaks the kiss, red eyes look up at him and she winks. He's also set her determination. She'll have him. At least once. And soon if she has anything to say about it.

His commect makes her laugh though it comes with the tickling so it's hard to be certain what really causes it. "I'll remember that, handsome." Her smoke is brought back to her lips She has yet to move from that curled position against him. Maybe he's comfortable to lean on. "How sweet of you, Johnny. I'm afraid I'm rather broke anyhow so you wouldn't get much."

For as long as it takes to down her wine and take two more draws from the cigarette, she's silent. "Were you able to find anything out after we parted ways earlier?" Yeah. It bugs her that she doesn't know what's going on.

Dispite what the demons might say, maybe even dispite his reputation, John is a lot more than most people give him credit for. Certainly more than they say about him when he's not listening. He is a lot of those things too... but he's also got determination.

And focus everyone once in a while.

Maybe even honor. Maybe. Not much of it.

Still, she's a beautiful woman and he's not outrightly complaining that she's leaning on her. Nor is he questioning weither it was a good kiss... His hand falls down onto her thigh, lazily sliding along her leg as he stares off at nothing, or something that's there that only he sees. Cigarette returned to his lips, smoke coiling up from the cherry and around the filter after a long drag.

"No. Chased one of K'li'rhs imps through Gotham. Second time one of the minor lords have sent something there... Startin' to wonder if that isn't a coincidence."

This man has thwarted her father more than once. Sent some of the most powerful demons she knows back to Hell. If there's one thing she doesn't doubt it's that there's more to John Constantine that he lets on.

There's no objection to the stroke and caress of her leg, especially since her free hand is idly running her nails along his chest in no particular pattern. An idle movement, really. There's an irony that the two should seem so completely at ease with one another.

His news causes her to frown even as she takes another draw of the cigarette. "Gotham..." Her nose wrinkles slightly. She's heard of the place. Her father gets quite a few from there. "It would be a good spot to start something..."

John tilts his head, stretches his brow, and widens his eyes thoughtfully. "No, it wouldn't be." Given thought, it just doesn't work. "Sure, the city is one big arcane symbol.. the bloks who designed that place were definately out of their fuckin' minds... but even if you're going to hide something in plain sight..." Glancing at the succubus through the haze of smoke, "You don't do it that obviously."

"Got to be something to overlook.. It's a diversion. Has to be one." Technically it doesn't /have/ to be.. but he has been called an expert on these things. And he is definately good at pulling the wool over other people's eyes.

His hand squeezes her leg, the other reaches for his scotch for another healthy recap of alcohol to loosen his mind. Washing the booze down with a smokey drag. "Alright, love. Daddy's gotta go to the office." Smacking her on the tail.

"Hop up."

"Are you sure about that, John? Maybe that's the point? It's just too obvious... It would be overlooked... written off... What better way?" Satana rolls her shoulders into a shrug. "I'll keep asking around though and see what I can find out. So far, no one's letting out even whispers."

A smirk curves her lips as her rear is patted. "Daddy, huh? Kinky, John." She does, however, do as he asked and removes herself from his lap. "Thanks for the smoke, baby. I owe ya." Only once he's up does she stretch back out on the couch. "Oh and, Johnny..." Her eyes lift to meet his. "You really did taste divine." Her lips are licked with a wink before her eyes half lid again.

John slides out from beneath Satana, takes a final drag off his cigarette, and stabs it down in the ashtray. Nodding once, slowly, in her direction while finishing off that glass of whiskey with a backwards tilt of his head. "You know how to find me." At no particular point in her various statements. So it could apply to any or all of them.

Both hands reach up to turn the collar of his coat out and smooth it along the neck as he steps back out into the pounding music from the club proper. Twisting to move through the various magical beast, wizards, and witches and back out into Hell's Gate. Exiting from a little floral shop in an unassuming part of Metropolis.

She's right, but John is pretty sure he is too. Standing on the sidewalk, another cigarette is pulled out from his pocket and pressed up between his lips. Box of matches comes out as well and rattles up near his ear, "One left." Grinning slightly to himself as he strikes it and fills the air around his face with smoke.

The match is waved out slowly and flicked into the street... Time to hit the pavement and shake down a few 'contacts'.