|Who Wants to be 'Saved'?|
There's a guy at the bar, idly flirting with a young man who, mind, leaves as Rayne enters. He's a bit of a scruffy guy, blonde, trenchcoat. He doesn't notice the police chief right away.
Rayne steps aside as the other guy leaves, giving him some space. Welp, now there's a free spot at the bar. Thus, Rayne walks right on up to said free space and takes a seat after carefully setting the oversized clipboard against it. "I think I'm in the mood for a cherry smoothie today," she tells the barkeep.
John Constantine glances at the young woman, giving her a slight assessing look. It's not sexual so much as curiosity. He's got a beer in front of him, from which he takes a swig. Then he finally offers, "Hello."
Rayne is used to that look. It's the hair. She glance back and offers a smile, for once(for her) not tired. She's not worked ALL DAY and it's finally starting to show! "Hello. Haven't seen you around." Please don't be someone she's met before and she's just forgotten...
"I think I would remember you, love," the man says. Liverpool accent, if she knows enough to place it. The love is casual, as if he says that to everyone. Loose tie. There's something slightly haunted in his eyes, mind.
Rayne shows no signs of having any idea what the accent is... which of course doesn't mean anything either way. She's definitely not from Liverpool, herself, and her own... is very difficult to place. Perhaps the slightest hint of a romance language influence, but it's extremely slight. She shrugs and reaches for her cherry smoothie, her eyes focused more on that than on the man by far. "I suppose I'm a bit distinctive," she says.
"It's the hair," the man jokes, lightening his tone for a moment. "Quite the fashion statement." Yeah, he's assuming it's a dye job.
Rayne manages to roll her eyes. "Yeah. A real fashion statement, all right," she monotones. She shakes her head, but decides not to go into it with someone she just met. "Rayne Hurris," she says instead.
"John Constantine," the blonde introduces. He hesitates before offering his hand; it's not really a British thing and he's not sure whether it's her thing either.
Apparently it's not her thing, because she looks down at it with a look of extreme trepidation. Instead of taking it, Rayne apologizes. "Uh, sorry, I, uh, have a thing about personal space. Nice to meet you," she says in an almost miserable tone. No, she doesn't like being that way.
John Constantine lowers the hand. "That's fine, never cared that much for the custom myself." He doesn't seem offended...perhaps even a little bit relieved.
Rayne sighs and hangs her head slightly. "Well, that's a slight releif, I suppose. I've outright insulted people because of it before." She straightens up and offers another apologetic smile. "Welp. Yeah. Anyway... How's the city treating you?"
"Americans, likely," John quips. "And, I suppose it's well enough." He's clearly very lost, or Sara would have found him already.
Rayne shrugs. "Sure, why not?" she says. "Well, glad the place is working out for you, then?" It's like she took the comment on the city being well enough as something personal.
"I suppose." A pause. "I finally found a place I could hide from Sara," he quips.
Rayne raises an eyebrow. "Obsessed Ex?"
John Constantine laughs. "No, friend with ideas for my improvement."
Rayne winces. "Oh. Yeah. That. A 'friend' that just wants you to be a 'better person'. That can be... yeah..." She shakes her head.
"Oh, I love her," John says. "She's just very persistent."
Rayne tilts her head, then shrugs. "Ah. So an actual friend, then, and not some nosy acquaintance. ...Why did you want to hide from her, again?"
"Because, love, she thinks she can save everyone. You must have met the type." And some people can't be saved. John worked that out a long time ago.
Rayne says, "Like... Religious saved? Or just the 'I can fix all of everyone's problems' saved?"
Ironically, in John's case, those two are one and the same. "The latter."
Rayne nods. "Well, glad she's not here for my own sake, then," she mumbles. "Uhh... nothing personal. But I don't need someone I don't know telling me how to fix all my problems when they've never had said problems."
John Constantine shrugs. "Well, I can at least say I won't do that." He can't fix his own problems. He'll not even start on other people's.