Moving House

[needsnewbusinesscards]

John was having a much needed cigarette break in between moving magical and mystical artifacts from his old friend Jasper's Mill House that he had been staying in during his adventures to the House of Mystery that had become the headquarters of the Justice League Dark, he didn't see the point in having two residences when the House of Mystery was a lot more mobile and less confusing to navigate since he knew the magics that lingered within more than those that had been placed by someone else. It wasn't an easy job as just putting things in a box and hoping that they didn't break in transit, there were some items that just couldn't be packed with others unless the exorcist wanted very bad things to happen and then there was the unpacking too.

Constantine sighed with a puff of light grey almost white smoke issuing from between his slightly parted lips as he tried to figure out whether he should just ward one storage room from the backlash of whatever was going to happen, or to actually sit down and  sort through the small mountain of boxes so that things didn't explode or even call forth someone like the demon Trigon by accident.

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[nabuhelm]

Still on it shelf, unmoved from the spot its rested for several years, the Helm of Nabu begins to softly glow.

Then, the glow intensifies, sparks of electricity arcing and bending, taking the shape of an ankh.

John Constantine ... says a voice, from seemingly everywhere and nowhere ....

[needsnewbusinesscards]

Constantine slowly makes his way over to the dust covered helm, keeping his distance as he stands in front of the glowing, floating ankh.

"If this is some ploy to put you on again, I've learned that lesson thanks."

[nabuhelm]

No, says the voice, levelly. It is time for you to find the rightful bearer of the mantle. Others search for him, but they do not know magic. Not like you.

There is a pause, and for a moment, the glow subsides.

A great danger is coming. You must find the new Fate. You must aid the Lightning and the Sentinel to reforge the circle.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"With getting me involved there's always a great danger coming, mate." Said as he dares to pick up the helm, giving it a quick dust with his shirt sleeve.

"And could you be any vaguer with who else is looking for your new wearer? How about some better clues."

[nabuhelm]

He is being obscured from my vision, says the voice. Some force seeks to hide him. Still ...

John's suddenly assaulted with imagery ... a young man of Middle Eastern descent. The boom of lightning and the crack of the word "Shazam." A green lantern bathed in jade light. A man who moves as fast as thought ... two hawks screeching across the sky.

Back to the beginning, John Constantine. The circle must be reforged. The answers will be found back at the beginning."

And then the helmet falls silent, seemingly mere metal again.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

He knew he shouldn't have touched the stupid helm again as he's suddenly assaulted by visions of the people that's supposed to help him in his search, at least John knew for certain who one of those people was but finding Shazam usually wasn't the hard part.

"The beginning of what?" the warlock questioned the golden helm, cursing upon finding it had become silent. "Bloody lot of help you are, you useless piece of metal."

[nabuhelm]

The Helm of Nabu is silent, seemingly just another dusty museum piece in a house full of them. Indeed, it's unclear exactly how Jasper Winters came about this particular relic, but it was seemingly a relatively recent acquisition.

It's possible even Jasper didn't know it's rightful owner. That, or Jasper was shielding the helmet from its owner. Either way, it's past was a mystery.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

Back to the beginning. What in the nine Hells could mean? He wondered as he walked out into the open with the golden helm, John needed some fresher air to try to figure the agent of Order's words.

[planetaryguide]

It's a cool night, but within seconds of being outside, it seems to get even colder. There's a distinct feeling of being watched ...

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As it feels like the temperature dips, John pulls his tan trench coat a little tighter around his lean frame before the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, not because of the cold.

"I don't know who you are or what you're doing here mate, but I highly advise you leave." He calls out to the presence, ready to banish the being if needs be.

[planetaryguide]

A shadowy man steps out of the woods and walks towards Constantine. He's not wearing a mask or a hat, but it seems impossible to get a good look at his face.

"John Constantine," says the shadowy man, almost casually. "It seems you're holding something I require," he says, gesturing toward the helmet. "Give me the helm of Nabu, and I'll allow you to live."

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"As much as I'd like to, the thing's taking up space and just collecting dust but it's seems that I kinda need it." Said with a half shrug as his cigarette bobs between his lips as he spoke.

Though it seemed rather odd to John that no-one had come knocking about the helmet before, not since the Mill House had been in his possession anyway, so why suddenly had a random stranger would be threatening his life for it.

"Hows 'bout I keep it and my life for now and you tell me just what you need it for. Sounds fairer to me."

[planetaryguide]

The man inches even closer. His face is still obscured by shadow, but he leer is visible, and menacing, and enough of his eyes glint enough to see that he's both homicidal and delighting in it.

"Why not," says the shadowy man. "You're a magician, or so I hear. You may have heard that your world is protected by a series of seemingly independently operating defense mechanisms. An immune system, if you will."

Is there a knife in his hand? It's hard to tell. He inches closer, and at first it seems there was a glint of metal there, but then it's gone.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"Think you've gotten me confused with the Zatans, do I look like the type that could pull off top hat and tails?"

Yes John's stalling, it's one of the many things he's good at as he slowly backs away from the homicidal maniac and towards the House of Mystery behind him.

"Look mate, I only asked what you wanted it for, so there's no need to get grouchy."

[planetaryguide]

The shadowy man inches even closer ... the outline of his silhouette visible ... wiry, muscular. His murder smile is more pronounced.

"There is a street corner in Hong Kong where the ghost of a betrayed police officer is doomed to mete out vengeance on the guilty. trapped there until replaced by another betrayed policeman. This is always true."

His intensity is inhuman, and almost unbearable. He's not a man, or even a metahuman. He is definitely something else.

"Likewise, there is always a set of children, born on the first day of each century, who play some role in defending the planet from harm. There is always an Earth elemental, born of fire in a swamp. And there is always a Dr. Fate."

He's close now, and there's an electricity in his movements. It's almost like he doesn't really move, he simply appears a few inches from where he was.

"Have you ever asked why these patterns repeat, Mr. Constantine? Surely, a man like you has. Surely, you realize that if someone controls these things, they could shape the world for a century, maybe even more."

The knife if definitely there now, and with an almost preternatural grace, he lunges at Constantine.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

Before John could even reply, he's reacting completely on instinct to protect himself by holding up the helm in his hands to hopefully deflect the knife that's being lunged towards him while taking half a step backwards.

"I would say it's fate but patterns like that ghost policeman can be broken, it's possible as I've done something like it before." Said smugly though there is a small tinge of fear in his words. "As you say, they'll always be someone in control of The Green, there will also always be an Agent of Order to protect against Anarchy but they're still people doing their duty, people that have there own free wills to do with their lives as they want."

[planetaryguide]

The knife thunders down against the Helm of Nabu, and suddenly there's an explosion of light. Does it stretch and curl into the shape of an ankh? it's hard to say, but the glare seems to blind the shadowy man, staggering him backward. He screams, and the sound is startling. Indelibly human, but also something ... else. It seems to reverberate from somewhere, as though it didn't originate in his lungs and throat.

"You are a dead man, John Constantine," he says, still on the ground and blinded. Your doom is a story being written as we speak."

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"Same song, different verse." John says while silently thanking the helm for it's protection. "You ain't the first to want me dead, mate and you ain't gonna be the last so change the bloody tune will ya."

Constantine turned the helm around, checking to see if any damage had been made by the other man's knife. "Look mate, I don't know you but I do know that this needs to get to it's rightful owner and that ain't you. So bugger off and randomly attack someone else."

[planetaryguide]

"There's nothing random about it, John Constantine," says the shadowy man, rising to his feet. He doesn't seem to be lunging ... maybe the Helm has made him wary?

"You will die, and then the next slave of Nabu will die ... the future is being shaped as we speak, and there is no place for the likes of you in it."

He doesn't seem to move, but instead appears to recede into shadow, until all that's left is a murderous, Cheshire cat grin.

"The only way you live is if you give me the Helm."

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Nervously John looks between where the smile remains and the door to the House of Mystery, wondering if he can get inside before another attack comes his way while relying on his unnatural good luck to hold out just a little longer.

"I don't see you as the running or flying type, nor do I think you've got a pair of wings hidden under that coat of yours and I don't spot a shiny green ring on your finger," John continues to goad while slowly walking backwards to what he hoped would be safety. "I know for a fact that you're not the wizard Shazam. So unless you're from the Middle East, this ain't yours mate."

[planetaryguide]

"I'm from nowhere that's ever existed, 'Hellblazer,'" says the shadowy man, and for a moment, the smile disappears, too. Then, suddenly, there's a sudden chill, and his silhouette appears, closer now, looming menacingly.

"Shazam. Nabu. They're just dead stories."

He's gone again, and the chill in the air worsens.

"But stories gone bad?" says the voice, from seemingly nowhere. "They can be murder."

And suddenly he appear again, close enough to throw a punch.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"Every dead story just becomes a legend," he retorts, jumping back slightly as his attacker suddenly reappears closer before disappearing again. "And legends can be remade, revived especially in an age of heroes mate."

There was only a few seconds before that fist connected, luck was once again on his side as he lent backwards causing the punch to miss. Letting the helm float in midair, John threw a punch of his own not knowing if it would do any good.

"Stories like yours perhaps?" Now wanting to know more about the man before him, to solve the mystery of the stranger that seemed to know him a little too well for Constantine's liking.

[planetaryguide]

John's fist seems to pass right through where the man should be. The shadowy man seems poised to retaliate, when the helm suddenly burns bright again, repelling him forcefully back into the darkness.

The man again seems to melt into the shadows, but before he's completely disappeared, he says, "This isn't over, Constantine. I will keep coming for you until the Helm is mine."

And then, he vanishes completely. The night air is thick with silence and an unshakable sense of menace, but he seems to have left.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

The warlock stumbles forward but keeps his balance when his fist seems to connect with just thin air, now he seriously wanted to know who this guy was but it seemed that that would have to wait as the helm comes to John's rescue once again, making the stranger see sense and finally leave.

"For once I'm glad Chas talked me outta melting you down." Constantine says to the floating golden head piece before he plucks it from where he had been magically holding it. "Y'know, you'd think that a place that houses magically adept 'heroes' would've given me a bloody hand. But anyway, I've apparently gotta a few folks to find as well as you're new wearer."