Who Let The Dogs Out!

Licensed Monster Hunter (Hellblazer oc + roleplay blog MDNI / CW HEAVY / DC OC

[lt-doberman]

IF YOU ARE SEEING THIS YOU ARE NOT SAFE.

SOMEONE IS OUT THERE.

A DEVIL, A HARBINGER, A STAIN.

JOHN M. CONSTANTINE.

THIS MAN HAS A KILL COUNT SO EGREGIOUS THAT POLICE HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO GIVE OUT A SET NUMBER. A SATANIC SERIAL KILLER WHO TARGETS WOMEN, CHILDREN, AND THOSE HE DEEMS VULNERABLE WITHIN THE COMMUNITY. THE GOVERNMENT COULDN’T STOP HIM…

…HOWEVER, WITH YOUR HELP, WE CAN.

IF YOU WANT TO PROTECT YOUR COMMUNITY CALL ME AT (***) *** **** OR MESSAGE ME AT [email protected] OR [email protected]

ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR LT. DOBERMAN

THIS IS A HELLBLAZER/VERTIGO OC AND VILLAIN. I PLACE HIM IN JLD CONTENT, GOTHAM CONTENT, HELLBLAZER CONTENT AND ANY OTHER THAT I PLEASE.

(READ ABOUT HIM HERE.)

WHO IS DAIRE WOODS?

Born the runt in a pack of wolves Daire spent his first moments fighting. Learning the truth of the world with bloody teeth. His father was a monster hunter, a member of a private organisation that trained its soldiers from birth. Spurred on by a plan crafted by Daire’s Captain he set out to save not only his organisation but all of humanity. A plan foiled by a smoke-covered Casanova.

WHO IS LT. DOBERMAN?

Previously a part of a highly regarded monster hunter society, however after a confrontation with JOHN CONSTANTINE he has had a change in occupation. Daire is no longer a simple foot soldier, now spending his time almost entirely on the hunt, research, and capture of John Constantine; as well other witches/warlocks that he thinks is a danger to the public.

PERSONALITY & GOALS

he’s a hunter, especially in personality. Daire doesn’t know how to act around people, pacing around them with little lies to try and catch them in a corner. Daire can feel very intimidating because he uses the fact he’s somewhat honestly a loser to hide which actions or movements are sincere and which are manipulation. Usually it’s both. He’s adapted to a "puppy" like persona, taking advantage of the fact he has the endearment of a silly old man to become unassuming.

INTERACTIONS!

All of my blogs unless stated otherwise are 18+ due to the subject matter discussed in them. Minors do not interact. If your blog is ageless, I will not interact without confirmation you are an adult. This is for my own comfort & safety.

post-crisis - yes!

rebirth - yes!

OCS - yes, you can dm me for lore & plotting if yer character has history with mine.

AU - same as with OC’s I am fine with different timelines or variations of canon.

Crossovers - ehhhh I personally dislike roleplaying with non dc or dc/vertigo characters. Check with me.

magic & event anons - yes, if I am not comfortable with an anon I simply won’t reply.

ships - I am fine with ships as long as it is discussed with me in advance. Ships will all be considered their own AU, and all alternative universes will be tagged as they arise.

CHARACTER BOUNDARIES

While Daire as a character discusses dark subject matter I still have a right to disagree with content I do not feel comfortable roleplaying. Those roleplaying with him should be aware of what I will and will not personally write for the character.

INCEST: Please do not engage with my blog if you intend to roleplay this with me. I am not comfortable roleplaying this specific type of abuse. I cannot police what you roleplay privately, however, if you attempt to “covertly” roleplay this subject matter with me or “accidentally” imply it I will block you without warning. This is global across all my blogs.

CHEATING: This HAS to be discussed between all parties. Any relationships people want to explore will be assumed to be in their own, separate timeline. I trust you all to be normal. I am fine roleplaying unhealthy relationships or polyamory as well, but I do not want to be tricked into a cheating scandal for the characters if that is not planned prior.

BIGOTRY: I love writing dark fiction and would be fine exploring that with a mature party! That does not mean I want non-discussed ableism or sanism in my inbox. Run it by me! Additionally I will not write anything about racism, like at all. No racial slurs please. 🙂‍↕️.

NSFT: While suggestive content is fine, any NSFW would not be on Tumblr. Discuss it with me in DMs, additionally I value story driven plots first and will only plan nsfw with mutuals I have already roleplayed with prior. Flirting or tension is fine.

If you are ever unsure of where I stand on something don’t assume, you can ask me yourself. The same goes with you, I plan my threads with you in advance so take advantage to make sure it’s a safe experience for everyone.

CONTENT WARNINGS

CSA

Sexual Trauma

Sexual Themes

Self Harm/Mutilation

Body horror

Religious themes

Religious psychosis

Stalking

Obsessive behavior

Extreme mental illness

Animal Abuse

Dehumanisation

Poverty

Gore, Blood, Death

OUT OF CHARACTER

hello. 💥💥

mun - @muzzleguppy

I follow & like from my main, as well post fanart or muses based on threads. If you want to contact me outside of tumblr I have other socials for people 18+.

My threads will start with this tag for easy reading, while my alternative universes will be cataloged here. (Link currently unavailable.)

[infelicitas]

Ritchie Simpson is calling.

REMIND ME!

DECLINE

MESSAGE

ACCEPT

John stares at the notification, blinking ever so slowly. Ritchie died, that much was obvious— he'd seen him be dragged down to hell just as quickly as they'd celebrated victory, pompous arrogance easily twisting into skull spitting fear the moment the hellmouth swallowed him whole. He still remembers the way he screamed, for god's sake. It couldn't be Ritchie, no— it couldn't.

Yet, he still answers it, thumb pressing, buttons beeping until—!

"What th'hell d'you want, Daire."

[lt-doberman]

"New York."

Daire spoke with an awful, disoriented cadence. It was as if every other syllable that left his throat fought to make it in the right order, scrambled together with sporadic breaks in his speech. The dog swallowed, throat unusually dry.

"You ordered two hotdogs from a vendor in, ah, angel avenue. Feeling hungry, Cons?"

Daire was reading something, the paper crinkling lightly within his hands. It was barely audible amongst the cracks of noise brought on by the damaged receiver of the phone.

[infelicitas]

A growl practically escapes him as he leans in, almost as if he was there with Daire. "Don't fuck around. I'll kill you." Daire always had this dramatic flair, as if he were a supervillain in some cheap flick that rattled off information cryptically like he wasn't spewing shit half the time. John didn't like it— he didn't like it one bit. Picking up the bombs he had laid was child's play, but whatever he was planning was about to be interrupted.

"What are y'doing in New York of all places. An' don' say somethink like sightseeing, answer me question. Now." Why couldn't he just leave him alone.

[lt-doberman]

"I was curious. Yer not the type to eat for two. Who are ya' meeting that required you to take 3- no, 4, flights this week? I see you have another scheduled for icelandair, return flight at 7am." Daire hummed, letting John spin himself around as he continued his obnoxious, prepared spiel. It was an incomplete answer, voice picking up in volume as he rushed to answer correctly. "Came 't see what the rush was about. Johnny.. did you get yerself tied up in something? Don’t tell me y' have some … old flame dying for yer support? ‘Didn’t take ye for the deadbeat type."

The damn mutt laughed. Already so sure of himself. He’d probably spent his creepy little head trying to crack this mystery for weeks. It’s not like he had anything better to do. No, This was all he was good for.

"Is she pretty?"

[infelicitas]

“You’d be surprised.” He grunts, leaning back— God, Daire was creepy. That being said it’s easy taking flights when they were all paid for, not that Daire needed to know that anyways, John would prefer him not knowing at all. His mouth twitches into a snarl at Johnny, too many people were too comfortable calling him that these days, but before he could bark out another command, Daire heeled.

Not that that was going to stop him. He’d have to give Claude a ring and get Eleanor a restraining order. “Curious, Daire— d’ya do anything but stalk me all day, you bellend? Got nothing else to do ‘cept sniff at me arse? Eh? I’ll ask you one more question— why don’t you just fuck off then? Whatever y’think yer doing— it won’t work.”

[lt-doberman]

"I’m serving the community. Can’t leave some dangerous devil t' run free. Seen too often what’ll happen if people pass you by. You’d be surprised what stories crop up over the years. Did you really blow that guys ballbag? Pretty cruel if y’ ask me."

Ah. His hobby was researching Constantine’s past. That’s reassuring.

"You didn’t answer me. What do you see in her?"

[infelicitas]

He scoffs, "serving th'community— what are ye serving, th'association of stalkers? you're not the saint y'think you are." John's face morphs into a scowl— leaving Daire to his own devices was proving to be the biggest mistake he's made in recent years (and that's saying a lot), in his foolish trust that the hound would do anything other than tracking him down like he's prey.

Well, he's not having it— he clearly didn't have all the information, grasping for straws— probably stalked him through the public, CCTV footage and general trails, especially since he thinks he's with Eleanor. Not only was the girl too young for him, she'd probably blow her head off instead of dating anyone semi-invested with her boss anyways. Point is, he still didn't know. "Y'think I answer to you? No, you answer to me. What are you planning."

[lt-doberman]

You’re not the saint you think you are.

Daire hadn’t realized how harshly he was holding the borrowed, damaged phone of the former quantum-magician turned techno-demon. No, not until his hand closed down in a swift movement and nearly crushed the damn thing. The man could hear it crack, awful sound penetrating his dog like ears as the screen shattering against his palm. His skin was only protected by the glass because of reinforced gloves. It was a wonder the call didn’t end there, but it couldn’t yet… not when he had an order. Woods caught his breath after a minute or two, although he was somewhat unaware of how it picked up in the audio.

Constantine was the Devil, his very breath breeds falsehood.

Daire is a Saint. A holy man. He never lies.

"Im plannin' something Big.. umh…" The hound fumbled with his hair, trying to focus on an answer that would satisfy John without burning his tongue with a hot iron. "A celebration."

A finger twist around dark, curly hair.

"Celebration of life. Funeral. Been collecting all of the guest for it. Unfortunately th' man of the hour s' very popular. Was only seeing if I should put that poor girl on the list."

[infelicitas]

Ritchie Simpson is calling.

REMIND ME!

DECLINE

MESSAGE

ACCEPT

John stares at the notification, blinking ever so slowly. Ritchie died, that much was obvious— he'd seen him be dragged down to hell just as quickly as they'd celebrated victory, pompous arrogance easily twisting into skull spitting fear the moment the hellmouth swallowed him whole. He still remembers the way he screamed, for god's sake. It couldn't be Ritchie, no— it couldn't.

Yet, he still answers it, thumb pressing, buttons beeping until—!

"What th'hell d'you want, Daire."

[lt-doberman]

"New York."

Daire spoke with an awful, disoriented cadence. It was as if every other syllable that left his throat fought to make it in the right order, scrambled together with sporadic breaks in his speech. The dog swallowed, throat unusually dry.

"You ordered two hotdogs from a vendor in, ah, angel avenue. Feeling hungry, Cons?"

Daire was reading something, the paper crinkling lightly within his hands. It was barely audible amongst the cracks of noise brought on by the damaged receiver of the phone.

[infelicitas]

A growl practically escapes him as he leans in, almost as if he was there with Daire. "Don't fuck around. I'll kill you." Daire always had this dramatic flair, as if he were a supervillain in some cheap flick that rattled off information cryptically like he wasn't spewing shit half the time. John didn't like it— he didn't like it one bit. Picking up the bombs he had laid was child's play, but whatever he was planning was about to be interrupted.

"What are y'doing in New York of all places. An' don' say somethink like sightseeing, answer me question. Now." Why couldn't he just leave him alone.

[lt-doberman]

"I was curious. Yer not the type to eat for two. Who are ya' meeting that required you to take 3- no, 4, flights this week? I see you have another scheduled for icelandair, return flight at 7am." Daire hummed, letting John spin himself around as he continued his obnoxious, prepared spiel. It was an incomplete answer, voice picking up in volume as he rushed to answer correctly. "Came 't see what the rush was about. Johnny.. did you get yerself tied up in something? Don’t tell me y' have some … old flame dying for yer support? ‘Didn’t take ye for the deadbeat type."

The damn mutt laughed. Already so sure of himself. He’d probably spent his creepy little head trying to crack this mystery for weeks. It’s not like he had anything better to do. No, This was all he was good for.

"Is she pretty?"

[infelicitas]

“You’d be surprised.” He grunts, leaning back— God, Daire was creepy. That being said it’s easy taking flights when they were all paid for, not that Daire needed to know that anyways, John would prefer him not knowing at all. His mouth twitches into a snarl at Johnny, too many people were too comfortable calling him that these days, but before he could bark out another command, Daire heeled.

Not that that was going to stop him. He’d have to give Claude a ring and get Eleanor a restraining order. “Curious, Daire— d’ya do anything but stalk me all day, you bellend? Got nothing else to do ‘cept sniff at me arse? Eh? I’ll ask you one more question— why don’t you just fuck off then? Whatever y’think yer doing— it won’t work.”

[lt-doberman]

"I’m serving the community. Can’t leave some dangerous devil t' run free. Seen too often what’ll happen if people pass you by. You’d be surprised what stories crop up over the years. Did you really blow that guys ballbag? Pretty cruel if y’ ask me."

Ah. His hobby was researching Constantine’s past. That’s reassuring.

"You didn’t answer me. What do you see in her?"

[infelicitas]

Ritchie Simpson is calling.

REMIND ME!

DECLINE

MESSAGE

ACCEPT

John stares at the notification, blinking ever so slowly. Ritchie died, that much was obvious— he'd seen him be dragged down to hell just as quickly as they'd celebrated victory, pompous arrogance easily twisting into skull spitting fear the moment the hellmouth swallowed him whole. He still remembers the way he screamed, for god's sake. It couldn't be Ritchie, no— it couldn't.

Yet, he still answers it, thumb pressing, buttons beeping until—!

"What th'hell d'you want, Daire."

[lt-doberman]

"New York."

Daire spoke with an awful, disoriented cadence. It was as if every other syllable that left his throat fought to make it in the right order, scrambled together with sporadic breaks in his speech. The dog swallowed, throat unusually dry.

"You ordered two hotdogs from a vendor in, ah, angel avenue. Feeling hungry, Cons?"

Daire was reading something, the paper crinkling lightly within his hands. It was barely audible amongst the cracks of noise brought on by the damaged receiver of the phone.

[infelicitas]

A growl practically escapes him as he leans in, almost as if he was there with Daire. "Don't fuck around. I'll kill you." Daire always had this dramatic flair, as if he were a supervillain in some cheap flick that rattled off information cryptically like he wasn't spewing shit half the time. John didn't like it— he didn't like it one bit. Picking up the bombs he had laid was child's play, but whatever he was planning was about to be interrupted.

"What are y'doing in New York of all places. An' don' say somethink like sightseeing, answer me question. Now." Why couldn't he just leave him alone.

[lt-doberman]

"I was curious. Yer not the type to eat for two. Who are ya' meeting that required you to take 3- no, 4, flights this week? I see you have another scheduled for icelandair, return flight at 7am." Daire hummed, letting John spin himself around as he continued his obnoxious, prepared spiel. It was an incomplete answer, voice picking up in volume as he rushed to answer correctly. "Came 't see what the rush was about. Johnny.. did you get yerself tied up in something? Don’t tell me y' have some … old flame dying for yer support? ‘Didn’t take ye for the deadbeat type."

The damn mutt laughed. Already so sure of himself. He’d probably spent his creepy little head trying to crack this mystery for weeks. It’s not like he had anything better to do. No, This was all he was good for.

"Is she pretty?"

[infelicitas]

Ritchie Simpson is calling.

REMIND ME!

DECLINE

MESSAGE

ACCEPT

John stares at the notification, blinking ever so slowly. Ritchie died, that much was obvious— he'd seen him be dragged down to hell just as quickly as they'd celebrated victory, pompous arrogance easily twisting into skull spitting fear the moment the hellmouth swallowed him whole. He still remembers the way he screamed, for god's sake. It couldn't be Ritchie, no— it couldn't.

Yet, he still answers it, thumb pressing, buttons beeping until—!

"What th'hell d'you want, Daire."

[lt-doberman]

"New York."

Daire spoke with an awful, disoriented cadence. It was as if every other syllable that left his throat fought to make it in the right order, scrambled together with sporadic breaks in his speech. The dog swallowed, throat unusually dry.

"You ordered two hotdogs from a vendor in, ah, angel avenue. Feeling hungry, Cons?"

Daire was reading something, the paper crinkling lightly within his hands. It was barely audible amongst the cracks of noise brought on by the damaged receiver of the phone.

[crow-of-gotham]

For clarification, I am not actually a bird. Unsure why so many think I am.

[lt-doberman]

suspicious….

[crow-of-gotham]

In what way? I am being upfront.

[lt-doberman]

send proof.

[crow-of-gotham]

I am not giving you pictures of me.

[lt-doberman]

if I left out seed you would eat it.

[crow-of-gotham]

I eat “human food.” A very balanced diet.

Would you eat kibble?

[lt-doberman]

Well when you call it kibble it’s demeaning. I do like dried meat mixed with oats.

[crow-of-gotham]

For clarification, I am not actually a bird. Unsure why so many think I am.

[lt-doberman]

suspicious….

[crow-of-gotham]

In what way? I am being upfront.

[lt-doberman]

send proof.

[crow-of-gotham]

I am not giving you pictures of me.

[lt-doberman]

if I left out seed you would eat it.

[crow-of-gotham]

For clarification, I am not actually a bird. Unsure why so many think I am.

[lt-doberman]

suspicious….

[crow-of-gotham]

In what way? I am being upfront.

[lt-doberman]

send proof.

[crow-of-gotham]

For clarification, I am not actually a bird. Unsure why so many think I am.

[lt-doberman]

suspicious….

[new-earth-rp]

a singleverse discord Role Playing server with a focus on the "Post Crisis" era of DC comics | 18 members

Some characters we're looking for:

Superman

Nightwing

Wonder Woman

The Huntress

Cassandra Cain

...and more!

Join us!

[new-earth-rp]

WE ARE OPEN

https://discord.gg/Mzv6XcFjN

[john-constantine-core]

[zatannazee]

Apparently I’ve been hexed… by the flu of all things

[lt-doberman]

The Divided has claimed another 😔… do you need anything? Soup?

[zatannazee]

Alas, I am but another victim

Soup would be perfect. Preferably the kind that feels like a healing spell. And maybe a little company if you’re offering.

[lt-doberman]

I got just the thing. I hear unicorn blood is wonderful when sick. ❤️

[zatannazee]

Apparently I’ve been hexed… by the flu of all things

[lt-doberman]

The Divided has claimed another 😔… do you need anything? Soup?

[new-earth-rp]

Why should you join?

Post Crisis

We are specifically the Post Crisis era of DC comics. No Spiderman or Danny Phantom here. We are comics lovers who want to engage with those characters and stories.

Many openings

As we've just started, most canon characters are available!

Singleverse

We have a concise timeline with RP happening anywhere along it at any point.

Life friendly

We don't do limited time "events" or rolecall. We are a people first server that well understands disability and busy lives.

Safe mod team

Queer Admin with 10 years RP experience, and 8 years moderation experience. Anti censorship, pro comfort and communication.

Interested?

Send us an ask or DM with any questions, and watch this space for when the invite link goes live!

[lt-doberman]

FAGGOT. 🫵

—definitely not @wilde-riot-ransom whatttt wdym who even is that. i bet he’s really cool tho

ok wow. so that’s a hate crime.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

i love the term “hate crime”. i really am doing this bc i hate you.

you specifically though. not all gay people. so i don’t think that counts as a hate crime

an anti-therian crime maybe

[lt-doberman]

what’s a

nevermind.

🥺🥺🥺

yer so mean to me.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

that stupid puppy eye emoji may be what your dumb face looks like all the time but it won’t work on me. furry

[lt-doberman]

I’m not a furry. Are you anti meta-human? Wtf, sort of problematic kid.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

I AIN’T ANTI META-HUMAN I AM A METAHUMAN FUCKWAD

[lt-doberman]

eu eu eu eu

can’t even make an honest living anymore without hate accounts showing up.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

i dont think a normal honest living includes killing things or having a homoerotic relationship with your employer. thats just me tho

[lt-doberman]

was it not last week you were talking about murdering people. I hunt monsters, you just kill everyone.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

yeah but it’s not my JOB.

i work at batburger😇

[lt-doberman]

how do you get a job there they keep declining my application.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

put something other than “i kill monsters” on the resume

personally i said i was very good at working with the public and i was very personable and i’m good with money and numbers yada yada yada. not sure if any of that actually applies to you, though

[lt-doberman]

Can you put a good word in for me :)

[lt-doberman]

FAGGOT. 🫵

—definitely not @wilde-riot-ransom whatttt wdym who even is that. i bet he’s really cool tho

ok wow. so that’s a hate crime.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

i love the term “hate crime”. i really am doing this bc i hate you.

you specifically though. not all gay people. so i don’t think that counts as a hate crime

an anti-therian crime maybe

[lt-doberman]

what’s a

nevermind.

🥺🥺🥺

yer so mean to me.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

that stupid puppy eye emoji may be what your dumb face looks like all the time but it won’t work on me. furry

[lt-doberman]

I’m not a furry. Are you anti meta-human? Wtf, sort of problematic kid.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

I AIN’T ANTI META-HUMAN I AM A METAHUMAN FUCKWAD

[lt-doberman]

eu eu eu eu

can’t even make an honest living anymore without hate accounts showing up.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

i dont think a normal honest living includes killing things or having a homoerotic relationship with your employer. thats just me tho

[lt-doberman]

was it not last week you were talking about murdering people. I hunt monsters, you just kill everyone.

[wilde-riot-ransom]

yeah but it’s not my JOB.

i work at batburger😇

[lt-doberman]

how do you get a job there they keep declining my application.