[ he makes a mild noise of agreement at the first comment, but doesn't pursue the topic any further. god knows he's heard enough about himself and his origin and all the stories surrounding him over the years.
instead, he slides his ankle against the younger man's, smile sly and a little smug. ]
I suppose I am. [ he slides his foot away again to free constantine, brushing his knuckle over his lips lightly as he does so. ]
[His smile widens and Constantine rises from the booth, leaning in teasingly close to Hiram as he does so, then slides away.]
Just a beer, yeah?
[He's still grinning to himself as he gets drinks for them both, returning to set the other man's order down in front of him and trailing his fingers over Hiram's arm as he returns to his own seat. He doubts that they'll have more than the one with the way things are shaping up, and doesn't find that idea a problem at all.]
So what does Hiram Leeds do with himself when he's not getting plied with alcohol?
[ he lifts the beer in a small toast to the other man, then takes a drink, tongue flicking against the mouth of the bottle as he lowers it-- both to catch a few stray drops and to tease constantine a bit. ]
I was a homebody for a long time, [ he admits with a shrug. he hadn't had a choice, really, until he'd learned to hold a completely human shape. no fucking horns, no goat-pupils, nothing to hint of his origins. ] I travel a lot now, though. [ as somewhat apparent by his presence here. ] Haven't been across the pond yet, but I've been in most states, parts of Canada and Central and South America. [ not so easy to jump on a plane when you technically don't exist.
he jerks his chin slightly toward the other man, expression indulgent and interested. ] You? What's your work?
[That tongue is the kind of distraction to make it difficult for a man to think on anything else, and he's certain Hiram knows it. Constantine's teeth scrape against his own lower lip, thumb circling the lip of his own bottle that he's starting to doubt he'll even finish at this point.]
Me? I'm a shady bastard I am. Plenty of names for what I do.
[His grin is all tease, although it's far from a lie.]
Warlock. Demonologist. Exorcist. Nasty piece of work. Ask anyone and they'll tell you.
[ oh. well, shit. he should have known, really. his smile falters a little, but he's hoping it'll just look like normal surprise, not.. slightly existential surprise. ]
Yeah? Never met a warlock-demonologist-exorcist before. [ which is the absolute truth. they'd tried to exorcise the entire barrens back in the day a couple of times, trying to get rid of him, but it doesn't really work that way, and he'd avoided them like the fucking plague anyway. ]
Is a warlock much like a witch? [ every witch he's ever personally known has been pro-demon. ]
[He'd noticed the way Hiram faltered, and while it's not surprising, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't disappointing.]
It means I work magic, mostly trying to help people. Send the ghosts and demons out there hurting others back to where they came from. There's a lot in this world you don't know about, luv, and I won't take it personally if you'd rather leave now. This life is one I'm used to walking on my own.
It's not that, [ he reassures him, and hooks their ankles together again beneath the table to assuage any doubt constantine may have. it's less to do with what he thinks about the other man than what he thinks of hiram in the end.
he's quiet for a few moments, considering, thumbnail scraping at the label on his bottle. at last, he tilts his head slightly, nearly-colorless pale blue eyes meeting constantine's. ]
You said ghosts and demons that are out there hurting others. What about when they don't?
[There's something about the question that Hiram asks, a question that most people wouldn't have even considered, that has Constantine meeting that pale gaze completely seriously.]
It happens, though most wouldn't know it. Some say there's spirits all over the place, they just keep to themselves and aren't out taking people's bodies for a spin.
[He shrugs, dropping his gaze and leaning back, foot rubbing reassuringly against Hiram's under the table. Constantine takes out a pack of cigarettes and taps one out.]
I don't bother with those types. If I started hunting down every spirit or creature just for existing, I'd be just as bad.
[ .. good, that's.. really good, actually. better than he was hoping for, maybe even best-case scenario. though constantine could always change his mind about hiram once he knows. .. still, it feels like hiding his identity is a bad idea with this man, considering what he does for a living.
he takes another sip of his beer and sets it back down, lips quirking up crookedly. ]
In that case, I feel you ought to know I'm that Leeds, then. [ a mild, dismissive wave of the hand not still curled around his beer. ] Mother's thirteenth, sired by the Devil and all that. [ his eyes crinkle a little at the corners in cautious amusement. ] The drawings really don't do me justice, though.
They certainly don't. [Again, Constantine's gaze flickers over Hiram, both appreciatively and with his own slight amusement. There's a touch of caution and interest there as well, if only because of that particular revelation in a place like this. As much as he'd like it to be otherwise, Constantine still has to instinctively consider if this could be a trap, and exactly how many innocents are around them if it is.]
So you're telling me that you're hundreds of years old and the son of Old Scratch? You're either bloody good at hiding it, mate, or lucky not to have been touched by that evil.
Not quite three-hundred, [ he admits, smile taking on a rueful note, ] and it's.. complicated, I guess. [ that's cliche, he knows, but he's not sure how else to sum it up.
he shifts, leaning on his elbows on the table, a hand lifting to push shaggy hair back behind his ear. ]
Can't lie, I was a bitter, hateful thing for a long while. Then I learned how to look like humans and found out you're not all bad. [ he hesitates, head tipping slightly. ] As far as dear old dad goes, he's never actually said a word to me, but I've never asked him to, either. Maybe that's what he's waiting for, I don't know.
Better that you don't ask and don't try and get any contact there. It'll only end badly, trust me.
[He finds it odd as well that there hadn't been any attempt to control or corrupt Hiram at all, and might have considered it a ruse... but even searching his own memory, Constantine couldn't recall any actual deaths of anything more than livestock being blamed on the Leeds Devil.]
Why the bitterness then? Seems like you've been lucky to escape getting caught up in his plans.
He may've had plans, I don't know. [ he sits back again, spine softening in the seat until he's in an easy sprawl. ] Anyway, it doesn't take the devil to teach someone to hate. I was abandoned by my mother and I was a monster. You don't want to see my other shape, but trust me, it's more than enough to make people fear me.
[ and who'd been there to teach him right from wrong? the coven who'd had a hand in his raising had been inclined toward encouraging more wicked pursuits, and the good quakers at the time had been more likely to run screaming than stop to talk.
he drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table again, brows lifting, mouth quirking up again. ]
Anyway, as it turns out, I've a mind to question things, and I'm more open-minded than I used to think I was. So here I am, somewhat less devilish than I'm certain some would like. [ a beat, and his smile widens. ] More cryptid than devil, actually, I think. Cryptids are more fun.
That it don't, handsome. Good for you not taking it to heart. Lot of others would have turned their back on humanity for less.
[It's entirely possible that the stories aren't correct about Hiram's demonic parentage - that it might have been a lesser demon or something else entirely - but it hardly matters. Constantine is largely grateful he won't have to send a seemingly nice gent to Hell after all.
And with the drinks almost gone, he's reminded again of that teasing glimpse of tongue earlier. His thumb circles the mouth of his own bottle as meets Hiram's gaze and quirks an eyebrow.]
Are they now? Maybe we should take our leave and find out.
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instead, he slides his ankle against the younger man's, smile sly and a little smug. ]
I suppose I am. [ he slides his foot away again to free constantine, brushing his knuckle over his lips lightly as he does so. ]
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Just a beer, yeah?
[He's still grinning to himself as he gets drinks for them both, returning to set the other man's order down in front of him and trailing his fingers over Hiram's arm as he returns to his own seat. He doubts that they'll have more than the one with the way things are shaping up, and doesn't find that idea a problem at all.]
So what does Hiram Leeds do with himself when he's not getting plied with alcohol?
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I was a homebody for a long time, [ he admits with a shrug. he hadn't had a choice, really, until he'd learned to hold a completely human shape. no fucking horns, no goat-pupils, nothing to hint of his origins. ] I travel a lot now, though. [ as somewhat apparent by his presence here. ] Haven't been across the pond yet, but I've been in most states, parts of Canada and Central and South America. [ not so easy to jump on a plane when you technically don't exist.
he jerks his chin slightly toward the other man, expression indulgent and interested. ] You? What's your work?
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Me? I'm a shady bastard I am. Plenty of names for what I do.
[His grin is all tease, although it's far from a lie.]
Warlock. Demonologist. Exorcist. Nasty piece of work. Ask anyone and they'll tell you.
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Yeah? Never met a warlock-demonologist-exorcist before. [ which is the absolute truth. they'd tried to exorcise the entire barrens back in the day a couple of times, trying to get rid of him, but it doesn't really work that way, and he'd avoided them like the fucking plague anyway. ]
Is a warlock much like a witch? [ every witch he's ever personally known has been pro-demon. ]
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[He'd noticed the way Hiram faltered, and while it's not surprising, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't disappointing.]
It means I work magic, mostly trying to help people. Send the ghosts and demons out there hurting others back to where they came from. There's a lot in this world you don't know about, luv, and I won't take it personally if you'd rather leave now. This life is one I'm used to walking on my own.
no subject
he's quiet for a few moments, considering, thumbnail scraping at the label on his bottle. at last, he tilts his head slightly, nearly-colorless pale blue eyes meeting constantine's. ]
You said ghosts and demons that are out there hurting others. What about when they don't?
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It happens, though most wouldn't know it. Some say there's spirits all over the place, they just keep to themselves and aren't out taking people's bodies for a spin.
[He shrugs, dropping his gaze and leaning back, foot rubbing reassuringly against Hiram's under the table. Constantine takes out a pack of cigarettes and taps one out.]
I don't bother with those types. If I started hunting down every spirit or creature just for existing, I'd be just as bad.
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he takes another sip of his beer and sets it back down, lips quirking up crookedly. ]
In that case, I feel you ought to know I'm that Leeds, then. [ a mild, dismissive wave of the hand not still curled around his beer. ] Mother's thirteenth, sired by the Devil and all that. [ his eyes crinkle a little at the corners in cautious amusement. ] The drawings really don't do me justice, though.
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So you're telling me that you're hundreds of years old and the son of Old Scratch? You're either bloody good at hiding it, mate, or lucky not to have been touched by that evil.
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he shifts, leaning on his elbows on the table, a hand lifting to push shaggy hair back behind his ear. ]
Can't lie, I was a bitter, hateful thing for a long while. Then I learned how to look like humans and found out you're not all bad. [ he hesitates, head tipping slightly. ] As far as dear old dad goes, he's never actually said a word to me, but I've never asked him to, either. Maybe that's what he's waiting for, I don't know.
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[He finds it odd as well that there hadn't been any attempt to control or corrupt Hiram at all, and might have considered it a ruse... but even searching his own memory, Constantine couldn't recall any actual deaths of anything more than livestock being blamed on the Leeds Devil.]
Why the bitterness then? Seems like you've been lucky to escape getting caught up in his plans.
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[ and who'd been there to teach him right from wrong? the coven who'd had a hand in his raising had been inclined toward encouraging more wicked pursuits, and the good quakers at the time had been more likely to run screaming than stop to talk.
he drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table again, brows lifting, mouth quirking up again. ]
Anyway, as it turns out, I've a mind to question things, and I'm more open-minded than I used to think I was. So here I am, somewhat less devilish than I'm certain some would like. [ a beat, and his smile widens. ] More cryptid than devil, actually, I think. Cryptids are more fun.
no subject
[It's entirely possible that the stories aren't correct about Hiram's demonic parentage - that it might have been a lesser demon or something else entirely - but it hardly matters. Constantine is largely grateful he won't have to send a seemingly nice gent to Hell after all.
And with the drinks almost gone, he's reminded again of that teasing glimpse of tongue earlier. His thumb circles the mouth of his own bottle as meets Hiram's gaze and quirks an eyebrow.]
Are they now? Maybe we should take our leave and find out.