Time to Change

HIATUS --- DC & other graphic novels Indie RP blog +18 

[szaszzle]

Going on an indefinite hiatus

[szaszzle]

Most John Constantine mood ever is when his two ex lovers start fucking each other, and he has to go out and save humanity while it rains blood

[kalamariboy]

Batman & Constantine

[szaszzle]

sorrowmarked​:

“Hard to,” she said, smiling up at him. Especially since it seemed everyone but her knew that he was … someone who did want to help. Definitions like good or bad didn’t suit when you were working with the supernatural, and it was something Diana, Bruce and Clark would never really get. If they knew the full extent of things she had done when her enemies attacked, they’d probably boot her off the league.

She had once turned a hotel owner that was stealing the souls of young women to stay young into a chunk of gold, and let him be carted off to hell. It was more vindictive than a simple death.

When it came to magic, to demons, to hell itself … black and white simply didn’t cut it. But try explaining that at a league meeting where everyone had made their super scout promises not to kill.

Sometimes she might not agree with John, but she’d be the first to admit it was a luxury she had, because she didn’t spend as much time dealing with the supernatural as he did. Because she got a chance to play superhero. Swap their places and the League would say the same things to him about her. Right and wrong was often just a matter of vantage point.

“Yeah, John. But that is not uncommon in a Bollywood movie. Older movie, 90s, Madhuri Dixit and Shahrukh Khan. He needs someone to step in and dance for his show when his main dancer gets injured, and he winds up meeting anoother girl who can take her place, and the pair start to fall in love …” she said, turning to face him while the popcorn popped.

She picked up the glass, expensive white wine, and blue dyed mountain dew. Honestly, how was this any worse then the nights she paired her wine with oreos.

John didn’t like to think about whether or not he was a good person because the answer was really obvious and it didn’t take too much thinking to get to the right conclusion. Most people got there eventually, and while he had some choice words to say about the majority of the populace there was something almost inspiring about the way people’s collective distaste in him seemed to unify parties... 

Zee had figured it out by now too, but for whatever reason she granted him these occasional moments. Sooner or later she’d kick him to the curb for good, but tonight wasn’t supposed to be about thoughts like that.

“I’ll drink to that.”

His failed reputation and her privilege to gloat about it. He clinked their glasses and gave the poisonous brew a taste... Not bad might have paired better with something more bubbly, but all in all he’d definitely had worse.

He squinted as she recalled the synopsis. 

“Sounds familiar.”

In more way than one. He wondered if she realized or if it was subconscious shining through.

“Anyways, thought we agreed you choose the flick. I’m ready for the couch whenever you are.”

He was looking forward to falling into some cushions, sneaking an arm around her like old times...

[szaszzle]

sorrowmarked​:

“Who’d believe me if I told them?” she asked. On the days she was feeling charitable, or defensive about her taste in men, she’d sometimes try and talk him up. The League members never believed her. “I couldn’t undo the work you’ve done to your reputation if I launched a full out campaign with buttons, and had internet videos of you kissing puppies,” she told him, taking another bite of her food. “It’s been tireless and dishonest work John, but your reputation is so throughly blackened there’s no hope of coming back from it.”

She didn’t know if she was having as bad a day as John had been. It’d been annoying more than anything. But she knew the fix for bad days of a variety of sorts. Junk food, old heart warming movies, wine, and feeling a little less alone in the world.

“I imagine it tastes bad, but there’s really only one way to find out,” she said, walking over to the small wine cabinet in her kitchen. The house it seemed had pulled the bottle John wanted up from the depths of the cellar without them having to go down.

She set it on the table and pulled out a corkscrew, leaving it on the island for him as she started to make popcorn. “Have I made you watch Dil to Pagal Hai yet?”

John’s smile didn’t waver and yet it might have taken on a sour node as she laid it on him-- not like it wasn’t anything he hadn’t encouraged himself, but sometimes hearing it out like that was a good reminder on why he liked to keep to his own devices more often than not.

Present company excluded of course.

“And don’t you forget it, duck,” he said taking the initiative to light up his third cigarette since crossing the threshold of Zatana’s fortress. If the junk food a promise of bad movies was a tell for how her day was going, then the chain smoking was a hint on his own state of mind. It was tough to differentiate because John chain smoked on good days too, but he liked to think there was still a certain level of subtlety to his self destructive patterns. 

His smirk slid into something a touch more genuine as she humored his challenge. It’s not like he actually saw appeal in that awful potion, but sometimes he liked to see how far Zee was willing to sink if he asked right. Then again, mixing soda and vintage wine wasn’t the worst he could do, and she knew it. Still, he was chuffed to be awful with her, and that wasn’t likely to ever change.

“‘s that the one with the dancing?” John said vaguely as if they didn’t all have dancing and he didn’t have all of Zee’s favorite movies memorized down to the director’s notes she often liked to yammer about when they were tangled in the sheets after a particularly good date.

John opened the wine bottle with practiced ease, topping off their respective glasses of Baja blast with white wine that likely cost more than anything he presently owned. Just the right level of depravity he wagered since he’d promised Zee there was no world ending calamity to worry about-- not tonight at the very least.

[waitingforthet]

Happy (day after) Halloween!

Check my Patreon out if you’d like to support the comic, even a little bit helps. Or just to check out the reward tiers, there’s some neat bonus stuff and I tried to make them fun: https://www.patreon.com/waitingforthet

[pengu-kiwis]

Can you draw Vic and Helena as civilians?

Here you go friend!

They’re sightseeing :)

[szaszzle]

sorrowmarked​:

Zatanna didn’t know if she was disappointed or not that there was no crisis. Yeah on the one hand, the shit John got involved in was always way more serious than the shit anyone else got involved in. The stuff that made even her sweat. Deep shit, one might even say. But at the same time a crisis took time to settle, and it wasn’t like she could just come out and admit she wanted to spend time with him.

Just tonight then. Nothing new there.

She looked over at him, wanted to see her? It didn’t seem like he was lying, though with John that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Of course, right now he didn’t really have to lie with her, so he probably wouldn’t. Not when it’d just piss her off more in the future.

He looked … tired, worn down, like weight was pressing down on his shoulders.

She slid a spicy potato taco across the kitchen island to him. Accepting what he had told her as fact. “You are a big old sap, has anyone ever told you that, John?” she asked, taking another bite of her taco.

“Well, I’m not changing my nightly plans for you, but fortunately for you they can be joined fairly easily. Unfortunately for you, I showered at the dojo, so the only thing you can really join me for is movie, snacks and wine,” she said.  "And I pick the movie, but I will let you pick snacks, and even the wine,“ she said. Because of course the Taco Bell wouldn’t be enough.

A spicy potato taco of truce. 

Or maybe it was trojan horse, but he would do his best to keep his ugly in check for the evening at least. The defenses melting away with the slow drag of her hand across a table, and his smirk lasted just a while longer. John reached for the taco before she could pull her hand away and there fingers slipped against each other with just a bit of extra purpose on his part before he retracted, taco in hand. 

John raised a brow lazily, leaning back in his chair. The look of smugness on his features hinted that he did not believe her diagnosis of ‘big old sap’. 

“No actually,” he said while unwrapping the taco, “That’s gotta be a first. And don’t you go spreading rumors either, I’ve a reputation to maintain.”

Nothing like wine, mindless TV, and a lovely lady to take his mind off the bitter. It never really did the trick, but a part of him was testing the theory that Zee could do it better. After all, that was more or less her thing...

“A fair deal if I’ve ever heard one.”

He was licking spicy chipotle off his finger tips, having made the taco disappear in a couple quick chomps. 

“This ol’ house still storin’ that Chateu Cheval ‘47 Blanc? Wonder how that’d taste mixed in with Baja Blast.”

[kewpidity-deactivated20240314]

ʙᴜᴛ…

           ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ                            ғᴏʀ ᴜs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ                                          ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs…

[comicsiswild]

The Question (1986) #21

[wifemoji]

god you're so fucked up lets make out

[szaszzle]

sorrowmarked​:

“That why you came over? Needed carrot sticks?” she teased. She was pretty sure she did have some in the fridge right now, which was less of a miracle and more because she had rabbits. (And they made an easy late night snack.) She tried to keep vegetarian. Tried to keep as connected to her father and his religion as she could. She wasn’t a great Hindu, but she tried to do the things she could.

She only had the one drink, so she walked over to the cabinet, pulling out two glasses before she popped the lid off the Baja blast and poured it out between them. Passing the electric blue drink across the kitchen island to him. Who ever said she wasn’t a fair and generous host?

“I don’t think you’ve ever just been in the neighborhood, ever,” she said, pulling a stool over she plopped down on it, and bit into a spicy potato taco. Even when they met he’d come to her show to meet Nick.

“I’d spill it, because the spicy potato tacos are actually a lot better than the bean burritos,” she said. “They’ve got the spicy chipotle sauce, and I really will not share them if you don’t confess,” she said, waving her own taco tauntingly in the space between them.

It was about the one threat she knew she could make good on. Probably. Maybe.

She was so strong she could take down Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman at once. But John Constantine, of all people, was her one weakness. Guess weaknesses always had to be as great as your strengths.

“Couldn’t hurt, right?” he said with absolutely no intention of eating anything that offered more vitamins than the fried potatoes tucked inside that sliver of tortilla. 

John’s smile as she teased him with the promise of taco didn’t meet his eyes, but then again... what else was new. 

Just the same as usual.

“You’ll be relieved to know there’s no crisis, so settle down, luv.” 

... yep. Just the same as usual. Stakes of life or death, John’s reluctant interference because who else was bloody gonna do it? And then carnage. Nothing that could have been avoidable given the situation, hell the people who’d come to him had even thanked him for it as he was settling to walk away, and that really was new.

So why was his sorry ass her, in her kitchen flicking cigarette ash rudely on to the kitchen floor?

John bit the inside of his cheek, his lips twisted and his gaze darted away from that taunting smile he loved so much.

Because the shape the shadow borrowed. The one he’d just banished to the underworld to eternal damnation, where it belonged. For a split second it was no evil spirit, it was that little girl from Newcastle, begging him not to do this to her again.

Just a trick, he’d seen right through it. But it had effectively ruined his night. John fixed his eyes back on Zee’s silently pleading with her not to ask any more questions.

“Suppose I just wanted to see you. I mean it, Zee.”

[woahmama99]

[exghul]

indie private damian wayne of dc.

x. x.

[szaszzle]

TW: addiction

I hc Vic Sage had a troubling relationship with substances and is a recovered alcoholic/nicotine/drug user starting all the way from when he was a troubled teen in Hub City and lasting all the way to when he was establishing himself as The Question.

This is based on the fact that he was definitely troubled as a young man likely using it as a form of self-medication, but also something that ultimately exacerbated his anger issues leading to some of the darker incidents from his youth addressed in certain comics. In certain iterations of The Question he is even seen abusing harder drugs to help him solve crimes which-- you know what I buy it, but not as a part of his main canon which is why I’m lumping it into his troubled past.

That said he turned over a new leaf after his encounter with Lady Shiva and training with Richard Dragon as he would have literally been forced to detox while living with Richard. Given that this is the tunning point for Vic’s resolve to kind of be a better person it makes sense that this is also when he would commit to his journey of recovery. 

I play Vic as someone who is fully sober, and pretty straight edge, he doesn’t drink or smoke or participate in any other sort of illicit substance use. He is pretty stable in his recovery and eager to help people who might be struggling with the same problem. If he ever sounds judgmental and condescending about it, it’s because he’s still a bit of a dick, but he does believe in anyone making an effort to be the better version of themself. 

Elements of this can also be spotted in his relationship with others who might be inclined to abuse substance (Renee and her drinking/smoking habit) and the language revolving around Vic having had this same issue in the past, and overcoming it. He wants the best for people which is why he’s so damn annoying about it when interacting with characters who might struggle with the same thing.

[szaszzle]

crimefightr​:

There was an alarm. A short one. At least not enough to trigger any of the security protocols. And had Bruce been in a worse mood, Vic might have been met with more than a few bullet wounds to add to his scars after but the rush of footsteps should have alerted him or anyone else of his presence as he came running down through the office. 

Expecting a fight. 

Or worse. 

Instead, it was Vic on his table, with a trail of blood all over the place. He didn’t even bother to say hello. “ Alfred! I need your help! “ He called out, his voice carrying through the large span of the Batcave and up to the house as he walked over to where their intruder was crudely trying to attend to his own wound uncomfortably. Bruce lets the consideration in that this must be what he looks like before Alfred finds him and takes away the needle and the thread. 

Without another word, he walked over and did his best to skip over the blood as his hand rested gently on the other man’s shoulder to make him lie down. “ Relax now.  We can’t have you going into shock. “ He remarked, taking the pincers and needle from his hand and dropping it back onto the  prep table with the other supplies and pulled up his medical information on a nearby computer in case of any allergies Alfred might need to know and blood bags to “borrow” if he’s lost too much blood already from the looks of it. “Alfred will take good care of you. “ He murmured, walking back to hover next to him as the man has somehow managed through practice and skill to put some gloves on and assess Victor’s wounds himself. 

“ Maybe you can explain why you’re bleeding all over my cave in the meantime, Question. “ 

Really it said something about the level of tunnel vision going on in Vic’s brain that he’d missed the alarm. But hey, at the very least he noticed that he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe he’d been expecting some amount of company, even if it wasn’t The Bat himself, wasn’t there like a school bus worth of kids running in and out of this cave at a given moment? 

“Didn’t mean to make-- a mess--” his voice was a bit strained, but he liked to set the record straight as far as that was concerned. He was due for a B&E every once in a while, but he still preferred to leave things better than how he’d found them. He might have been sweating buckets of cold perspiration and bleeding all over the workbench, but he was no heathen! 

Vic didn’t see any point in resisting as the medical supplies were taken out of his hands.

“Call it a happy accident, or.. wrong place at the wrong time,” he scoffed with a pressed laugh not really explaining anything. For a man who was famous for asking lots of questions he was suspiciously good at leaving things as vague as possible.

A hand reached blindly to grab Bruce’s arm in a vice grip.

“Bruce,” and maybe he sounded a little panicked which was more than a touch out of character. “No anesthesia, no pain meds. Please.”

[szaszzle]

hxllblazer​:

“Maybe if y’ ask the walrus very nicely.”

A snort as he went to snatch another bottle off the floor—that was clearly not the only bottle but one of… five? Ten? Among some other things so clearly burrito was the least of any real concerns down there.

A swig pulled from the remnants of the bottle—though maybe he could count himself lucky with his poker face because someone? Willingly searching him out for help? Either the universe ended yesterday or this guy really was out of his depth. “Three times counting the money but christ, y’ went through all this to get my help… Y’ suits don’t go lookin’ for me unless it’s really bad, y’know?” Well… if he was going to make this kind of an effort, he might as well hear what the guy has to say proper.

But help… Jesus, the number of things this could potentially be involving were way up there. Not to mention the part where there were much friendlier, more heroic based magicians out there who’d probably be willing to lend a hand, and if this guy was willing to come straight to the last of the last resorts on that list?

“Sit yourself on the bed then and start from the top. Guess you’ll be keepin’ your insides today.” Of course still not going to mention the part where the guy had nothing to worry about in the first place. That could be his little secret. “We’ll worry ‘bout the bit where I decide if I’m gonna give your little problem the time of day later, and whether or not you can afford the finder’s fee.”

The last part, of course, was a joke but another bit he wasn’t going to mention.

“I’d offer you a drink t’ calm the nerves or whatever but aah…” He made a bit of a general motion at his own face. “Y’ don’t seem like you’re the drinking type.”

“Awfully kind of you, thanks.”

Vic kept hist judgement of John’s frankly pretty depressing alcoholism silent. Besides it wasn’t the ‘holier than thou’ sort of judgement-- more of a ‘come on guy, does it have to happen right now?’ level. Vic had a taste for gathering lost souls and nudging them towards the right path, but his last attempt hadn’t really gone so well... So he was practicing staying in his lane. Just a little bit. 

Just a little bit! He picked up a crumpled can and walked over to the recycling bin. On his way back, he stepped on a shoelace which had somehow come untied. This propelled him face first back into the burrito stained floor.

“Sonofa-” Vic groaned as he rolled on to his back. Maybe he should just stay down for the time being. Vic stared up at the motel room ceiling for a moment, then sighed. Sitting crisscross applesauce on the ground seemed like a safe enough compromise. “If you don’t mind, the floor will do.”

At the very least until they got this curse all sorted.

While it was true that there were plenty of more mainstream heroes that might have lorded a similar kind of expertise with less trash in the background, there was also the matter of Vic’s own popularity to consider. He was not exactly a Justice League sweetheart himself, and found himself more than comfortable engaging with the other bottom dwelling riffraff. 

“You’re right, gave that vice up a decade or so ago,” but lacking a mouth was a good enough excuse for why. So they’d leave it at that. “So about all this. Gotta admit. I’m a bit out of my element,” he gave a little shrug. “Guess the favorite theory at the moment is that I’m cursed, but. I thought I’d get a second opinion.”