Dunno. They're slimy, awful things. No one would eat them if they weren't aphrodisiacs.
[Oh, Monty is a good one. A true keeper. John nods at her gratefully, she knows how to take care of her patrons. And has obviously done so for Ronstadt in the past.] She does, mate, she does. A good bird, that one.
[John snorts a little at the comment about her going.] Alright, so a lesson from someone who's been around the block a time or two and knows a bit about ladies. Don't date the people who serve you beer, who cut your hair, or who write your legal papers. Bad news all around, those relationships. [He takes a drink from his glass, and blinks at the quality. Not bad at all.]
Yeah, but you gotta hope that how gross they must feel goin' down isn't enough to keep things from goin' up, am I right?
[he snickers a little, glad that for once his company at the Hula Shaker will appreciate a dick joke.]
I wouldn't date Monty, her girlfriend would kill me. And I don't have any legal papers. Maybe I should. Not even sure how that would go, to be honest. Nobody to leave anything to.
[that's a grim thought, and he takes another long drink of Mai Tai, draining half of what Monty filled in.]
[John snickers in response, just as much to Ronstadt's snickering as the joke itself. It's such a cheap, immature joke but it's amusing none the less.] Well, I can't say that's never been a problem for me.
[He honestly should lay off on it, but it's amusing to him anyway. And it's the truth, he's never had a problem with anything going down...
He still doesn't like oysters though. Not unless they're served deep fried.]
That's a good reason. Never get between a girl and her girlfriend, it never ends well for you. I'm not one for legal papers either. You're in the will though, I hope you know. [Since they've gone down the death route already, he's going to play with it.] When I kick the bucket finally and old scratch comes to drag me down to my reserved suite? You'll be the proud owner of one book of obscene and potentially illegal magics, two hundred packs of my brand of cigarettes, and the lucky boxers I stole from Batman himself.
[he nearly chokes on his next sip as John keeps talking, a coughing fit almost obscuring the litany of his eventual inheritance]
Wait - I'm in your will? Seriously? We - I mean - I've known you for what, a couple months? And I'm in your freakin' will?
[his phone screen glows up at him, and he's offended by Faye's even tangential presence at this conversation, picking it up and stuffing it in his pocket. Fuck Faye. He's damn sure he's not in her will. He's pretty sure she doesn't even have one yet. Of course, neither does he, and he doesn't have much worth passing on, but ... John's comment thinks maybe he should get going on it. This magic shit is dangerous, and Kenner Lash and Zemora showed him that first-hand. Maybe leave his tapes to Hattie, his vinyl to John, his best kicks and his wardrobe to Vez. Yeah. But still -]
I don't know what to say, other than, uh, obviously, don't die, that's bad, I don't care what I'm getting, I'd rather have a friend than his stuff. ... Also: I'm sorry, but did you say "Batman"? As in, East Coast urban legend? I should know better than to ask if you're kidding, but are you kidding?
Of course you're in my will, don't be a prat. Why wouldn't you be? If I get dragged down to hell someone might as well benefit from it. The demons won't enjoy all I've collected. And I don't want my ex to get my spellbooks. I've got something else in mind for her. And Chas-[Oh, that cuts off suddenly. And yes, spellbooks, instead of spellbook. John doesn't like making it sound like there's some ridiculous magic inheritance to be had though. It sounds snobby that way to him.
He personally doesn't like to think about it either. He's already well aware of how many hands are reaching for him, he doesn't have a happy afterlife to look forward to. But there's something that's pleasing somehow about the fact that he has someone in his life right now that doesn't actually and actively want him dead.
Ronstadt's a keeper, he thinks. A better person than John deserves to have in his life. John's been so selfish, desperate to Faye out of the picture without being shitty about it, thrilling when he gets what he wants despite his friend's suffering, and here the man is being better than John on every possible level.]
I don't plan to. [John takes a drink, and nods.] Yeah, he's real. A real tosser. There's this nonsense they do, it's basically a super heroes club for the cowl and tights types. Not into that, personally. But I was roped into something called the Justice league dark. Equally stupid. But at least it was full of more interesting people. And he was part of it.
[The fact that Constantine cuts himself off startles Ronstadt a little, but ... he doesn't mind. He's used to Hattie keeping all kinds of things from him, usually for his own safety. It's not a long stretch of the imagination to figure that his new friend means the same.]
Tosser, huh? Where does that fall on the insult scale? Is it more 'dickhead' or closer to 'motherfucker'? You did promise me a crash course in British.
[He'd honestly speak about it. While he holds a lot of secrets, Chas and how he lost his friendship with him is a long and painful story that's still fresh wounds to John. He didn't think it was worth going on about, not when he's trying to be the cheerful one in their decidedly undynamic duo.]
Tosser is an asshole, a big bastard of one, it's pretty high up there. I don't know about the status of his mother, so I'm not risking calling him a motherfucker. [The dead mom's club members tend to skip that one.] He's worlds above dickhead, the fancy fucker is so poised and firm and put together. Smart too. Makes me wanna punch him. [He thinks about this for a moment.] Alright. Let's start with stupid people insults. Or smart people doing stupid stuff, that works too. So in this catagory there's wankers and muppets and plonker and pillock. You can call someone daft too, or say they lost the plot. That works for crazy too. Blert gets used back home now, meff too but I've never really bothered with either of those too. Oh! Don't forget twit either. That's always a fun one.
[He takes another drink, slowly this time.] Alright, friend. Once you've taken all of that in, we can move on to crazy insults or just general asshole insults.
So he's not in the running for Upperclass Twit of the Year, then.
[Late night Monty Python reruns on PBS were some of the only British cred Ronstadt had going for him. Nana had been a big fan of the old Public Broadcasting System, but she'd been more about the period dramas and Masterpiece Theater.]
Blert sounds dumb, I can see why you don't use it. [he thinks back to a group of tourists he'd heard in line at his favorite churro stand, and realizes -] Hey, isn't there some word "neff", or "naff"? Seems too close for meff.
[That gets a good laugh from John, one he very much needed.] I think we should nominate him anyway. Send him a nice letter stating his place in the running. Besides, for being so damned smart he's probably made enough stupid choices to put him in the contest legitimately. There's a host of shitty costumed freaks still running around, after all.
[He nods in agreement with blert. It's just not his favorite at all.] Ah, naff. You can put it down to tacky or tasteless. Maybe unimpressive. Even if it's got more use than just that.
Maaaan, and I thought it was a compliment. I mean, she was grinning when she said it and everything. "Mate, your shirt is well naff." And she and her friend giggled, and I figured they were like, into me.
[Ronstadt snorts a laugh]
Guess I shouldn't have offered to pick up their churro tab.
It's not that bad coming from a bird. If a gay man says it to you? That's rough. You know you're beyond hope then.
[John didn't really fall well into any of the gay scenes, it's not that he didn't crave the kindship to some degree when he was young, but he was always so angry and so moved by other things. Mainly, magic and the punk scene as it slammed into life and left people in awe of the shameless energy.
And as a bisexual man, he didn't know if he was ever really allowed to be a part of it.
Yeah, they're pretty notoriously savage, especially here in L.A. I can't say I know too many of them personally, but that's mostly because I'm a sad excuse for a social being.
[he raised his glass to John]
If any gay guys came near me it'd probably be to give me and my apartment a makeover, you know? And no one is touching my hair, no matter how sweet they are to me.
You and me both. They're certainly not giving me a second look as a rule. I'm not polished enough for most of the ones I meet. Not hairy enough or thick enough for the ones that want bears. Certainly not fit for the ones that want queens either. I do well enough, but it's certainly easier to get myself a bird.
[He raises his glass as well, and clinks it gently against Ronstadt's.]
What, you wouldn't let me mess with your hair? I'm not gay, per say, but the sleeps with men business has to count for something. [He's obviously teasing, it's all in jest.]
Huh. So ... okay, I gotta admit, I've never had actual in-depth conversations with anyone who swung both ways. Can I ask you dumb questions?
[the question about his hair makes him laugh a little. he'd just scarcely found the right spell to grow back the bits Hattie cut out for her potion when he met John, so he was pretty self-conscious of that.]
Touch it, sure, but - no one cuts it unless they're like ... a qualified barber or something. Never again.
[as a show of good faith, he leans forward across the table and dips his head. there is a stunning lack of product in that blond mop. he's very fluffy.]
"His questions ARE pretty dumb."
[this from Monty as she comes back to top off his glass again]
[John's voice comes through warmly, absolutely sincere and honestly wanting to be helpful. He's at this perfect point for social talk and open to pretty much anything. So if Ronstadt has questions, John has answers.]
Sounds like a smart plan. Besides... [He eyes the hair a little.] It kind of does it's own thing. You might have to find a genius of hairdressing to get anywhere with it.
[Oh, oh, John can't resist. He runs his fingers through it fondly for a moment, feeling his heart slam in his chest. He feels like a fucking kid again, before everything was so painful and miserable. It's cute. This whole situation is cute and innocent in it's own strange way.
Oh, and then there's Monty.] I do too, so he's in good company. [John decides to make an order before she heads off.] Hey, luv, get me one of those Mai Tais too, will you? When it Rome, after all... [He pulls his fingers away, but the impact of being allowed touch still stands.]
[Monty grins once her back is turned to them. Normally, she'd give them a week. But Ronstadt's thick as a post. She bumps it out to a month or so.]
There's a chick in Encino that just kind of ... trims it here and there like a hedge. I don't know how she does it. Maybe she's magic too.
[Ronstadt leans his temple into John's hand for a fraction of an instant, and his first thought is that Faye hadn't even gotten the chance to do that. That makes his heart crack a little, one of the little fragments breaking free, and he closes his eyes until the twinge of pain is gone.]
Anything, huh? Okay. I guess I'll hit you with the big one first. How did you know you were a both sides kinda guy? And - okay, follow up. Did you like girls first, or guys?
Thanks, luv. [He nods in appreciation as she leaves.
He's still way more focused on Ronstadt, though. Especially how he leans in, just a bit, and John doesn't want to dwell too much on it but damn it feels good. But then the question hits and it's easy to answer. Easy to focus on that.]
So one of my friends, way back when, used to practice kissing with me. Just for the birds, of course. We didn't want to look like we didn't know how to handle ourselves. But I liked it a bit much, if you know what I mean. [He smiles, fondly. He misses those days, sometimes. He never had an easy life, but in what counted for his halcyon days, it was so much simpler than now.] I had a bird pretty fast, but I'd keep meeting up with a mate and we'd bang on the weekends. Didn't even see it as serious, he said it didn't count. [It counted to John, though.] You know, that it wasn't cheating because we were both boys. And for a lot of them, it was just a way to get their rocks off. [He tilts his head, thinking of how to word things.] She was sweet. Too good for me. Really liked her. But I felt the same way about the friends I was fucking too. That kind of solidified it for me.
[he listens, curious. practicing kissing with guys. shit, maybe that's why he felt so awkward with Faye. no practice. at least, no memories of practice. John Hughes probably directed what he thinks was his first kiss, he thinks bitterly. He has zero poker face in that moment, and his eyes go slack with yearning envy for another man's memories. That was one gift Faye gave him, at least. He can never completely hate her, because of it. Or can he? Would he have been perfectly happy not knowing his past was a kaleidoscope of pop culture?
Monty sets down Constantine's mai tai, sees the look in his eyes, and takes Ronstadt's half-empty one, deciding to throw the poor guy a bone. She knows a break-up chat when she sees one, and she also knew he'd been glued to that phone even when he'd walked in the door. Poor guy.]
Thanks, Monty. ...
[Ronstadt tries to rally, find a way to continue the conversation without burdening Constantine with even more of his problems. He has to at least try. He'll give him the bullshit memory, see if he notices.]
My first kiss ... definitely with a girl. She was a total jerk to me, but ... she was so pretty I didn't care. It was ridiculous: her wish was my command, pretty much. But finally one day I think it hit her that I liked her. There was this gorgeous sunset, you know? Picture perfect. And she just walked up to me and planted one on me. And - you know how there are all those movies and books and stuff about perfect first kisses? That one blew 'em all away.
And he sees the envy, and he genuinely wonders if this man has never been kissed before. Or maybe he's a virgin. Maybe that's why that expression crossed his face. John is almost ready to laugh, to clasp him on the arm and tell him that the sex was so shitty that he might as well have not been having it, but then he gets something from Ronstadt that stops him.
He can't help but to listen. And his eyebrow slowly raises higher and higher as the description of the 'memory' continues.] Is that so? [He swears he's seen this scene in a cheesy eighties flick before.] Sounds like something straight from the movies. Must have been fantastic. Was Take My Breath Away playing in the background? [He takes a long drink of the Mai Tai, and then blinks at it. Holy shit, the thing is sweet and doesn't taste alcoholic at all. Dangerous stuff.
He turns back to Ronstadt after that, softer in his expression.] You don't have to lie to me. If it was bad, it was bad. I've had some god-awful kisses. One of them bad enough that I needed stitches. There's no need to glorify things.
[He was expecting to have the wind drawn out of his sails, so he just sinks slowly back into the booth and lets it happen, reaching up and raking a hand back through his hair.]
No Berlin, no, but it was something about storybooks. Jesus. Okay, I - I need to level with you. On something big. Something I wouldn't have even realized if Faye hadn't wanted to try and really get to know me. You're the only other person who knows this. Or is about to.
[Ronstadt shifts a little in the booth. He waits for Monty to come back with his own Mai Tai, gives her a smile and a salute - their little signal that he's OK - and takes a slower, more controlled sip. His gaze lingers on the cherry for a moment, then he leans across the table again, lowering his voice.]
I don't remember most of my life. The only things I know are real are the stuff right before I discovered my power. ... Everything else? Movies. TV shows. Yogurt commercials. All fake. And I've got no idea why.
[When Ronstadt says that he needs to level with him, when he brings up how serious it is, John's whole focus goes to him. He leans in, waiting until Monty leaves again before speaking.] I'm listening. [Not the most brilliant or comforting answer, but it's the truth. He's here and he's listening and it's obvious that whatever happens he's wanting to help and has no intention of mocking him.
But what he says, low and quiet, rocks John a bit. There are quite a few spells that affect memory. But very few that would replace all of them entirely. Amnesia could take a lot from a person, but with the timing? This all but advertises that dark magic was involved in the act.] Bloody hell. How did you find out that it was all fake? What gave it away?
[Sometimes relief is so strong it barely feels like anything at all, like ears popping and your equilibrium coming back. A change so subtle, yet all-important. It feels like that to Ronstadt now, the way Constantine is simply ... listening, believing him, not instantly probing him for proof or details or calling him full of shit.]
We were at a party my friend Vez's family was having. He showed us his workshop garage, and then left us alone, trying to be a wingman, I guess. Faye started asking me questions about my life, trying to get to know me. What my parents were like, how it was growing up outside L.A., what I did for summers between school. After maybe ten minutes she got real pale and said it was really pissing her off that I'd treat her like that. I didn't get it. I really didn't get it. When she realized I really didn't know why she was so pissed, she brought me back to her apartment and pulled up YouTube. My horrible Christmas vacation really belonged to some blonde kid in a movie called Home Alone. Senior year? Another movie. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. THe way I described my grade school lunchroom was a commercial. My classmates were allegedly Teen Wolf and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I didn't know any of that because I'd never seen any of those things in my life. I honestly thought they were mine.
{he takes the cherry out of his Mai Tai and lets it dangle by the stem between his fingers, watching it catch the light]
The only thing I'm even a little certain is real is the ice cream stand where I worked when my powers kicked in. Nana's Super Splits. And now I'm so messed up about all of this that I don't even know if she was real. ... You ever heard of anything where there's a little old lady allergic to maraschino cherry preservatives?
[John is honestly disturbed. This sounds like the most horrific parts of magic, something that can leave a person entirely fucked over and broken. What could possibly cause someone to rewrite Ronstadt's life? And so damn carelessly?
Someone really wanted Rosntadt's past to die. And they didn't care how sloppily they had to cobble together a new one for him.
But...
Why wouldn't they just kill him if he was that big of a concern? That's just as shocking as the memories being falsified with nostalgia entertainment.]
Christ. [He looks genuinely concerned. He wonders if part of the reason things ended up so badly with Faye is what happened with the false memories that day. She probably thinks that Ronstadt is disturbed. And maybe he is. It's hard not to be, to some degree, when dealing with their line of work.] Well, there's only one way to find out about Nana. Where was she located? That makes things a lot easier for me. [He's googling it on his phone already.]
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no subject
Date: 2021-09-06 04:26 am (UTC)[Oh, Monty is a good one. A true keeper. John nods at her gratefully, she knows how to take care of her patrons. And has obviously done so for Ronstadt in the past.] She does, mate, she does. A good bird, that one.
[John snorts a little at the comment about her going.] Alright, so a lesson from someone who's been around the block a time or two and knows a bit about ladies. Don't date the people who serve you beer, who cut your hair, or who write your legal papers. Bad news all around, those relationships. [He takes a drink from his glass, and blinks at the quality. Not bad at all.]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-06 04:32 am (UTC)[he snickers a little, glad that for once his company at the Hula Shaker will appreciate a dick joke.]
I wouldn't date Monty, her girlfriend would kill me. And I don't have any legal papers. Maybe I should. Not even sure how that would go, to be honest. Nobody to leave anything to.
[that's a grim thought, and he takes another long drink of Mai Tai, draining half of what Monty filled in.]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-07 06:19 am (UTC)[He honestly should lay off on it, but it's amusing to him anyway. And it's the truth, he's never had a problem with anything going down...
He still doesn't like oysters though. Not unless they're served deep fried.]
That's a good reason. Never get between a girl and her girlfriend, it never ends well for you. I'm not one for legal papers either. You're in the will though, I hope you know. [Since they've gone down the death route already, he's going to play with it.] When I kick the bucket finally and old scratch comes to drag me down to my reserved suite? You'll be the proud owner of one book of obscene and potentially illegal magics, two hundred packs of my brand of cigarettes, and the lucky boxers I stole from Batman himself.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-07 08:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-09-07 05:23 pm (UTC)[he nearly chokes on his next sip as John keeps talking, a coughing fit almost obscuring the litany of his eventual inheritance]
Wait - I'm in your will? Seriously? We - I mean - I've known you for what, a couple months? And I'm in your freakin' will?
[his phone screen glows up at him, and he's offended by Faye's even tangential presence at this conversation, picking it up and stuffing it in his pocket. Fuck Faye. He's damn sure he's not in her will. He's pretty sure she doesn't even have one yet. Of course, neither does he, and he doesn't have much worth passing on, but ... John's comment thinks maybe he should get going on it. This magic shit is dangerous, and Kenner Lash and Zemora showed him that first-hand. Maybe leave his tapes to Hattie, his vinyl to John, his best kicks and his wardrobe to Vez. Yeah. But still -]
I don't know what to say, other than, uh, obviously, don't die, that's bad, I don't care what I'm getting, I'd rather have a friend than his stuff. ... Also: I'm sorry, but did you say "Batman"? As in, East Coast urban legend? I should know better than to ask if you're kidding, but are you kidding?
IT WAS MEANT TO BE EVER INSTEAD OF NEVER BUT-
Date: 2021-09-07 07:56 pm (UTC)He personally doesn't like to think about it either. He's already well aware of how many hands are reaching for him, he doesn't have a happy afterlife to look forward to. But there's something that's pleasing somehow about the fact that he has someone in his life right now that doesn't actually and actively want him dead.
Ronstadt's a keeper, he thinks. A better person than John deserves to have in his life. John's been so selfish, desperate to Faye out of the picture without being shitty about it, thrilling when he gets what he wants despite his friend's suffering, and here the man is being better than John on every possible level.]
I don't plan to. [John takes a drink, and nods.] Yeah, he's real. A real tosser. There's this nonsense they do, it's basically a super heroes club for the cowl and tights types. Not into that, personally. But I was roped into something called the Justice league dark. Equally stupid. But at least it was full of more interesting people. And he was part of it.
Eh, he'll find THAT out eventually
Date: 2021-09-07 09:27 pm (UTC)Tosser, huh? Where does that fall on the insult scale? Is it more 'dickhead' or closer to 'motherfucker'? You did promise me a crash course in British.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-07 11:04 pm (UTC)Tosser is an asshole, a big bastard of one, it's pretty high up there. I don't know about the status of his mother, so I'm not risking calling him a motherfucker. [The dead mom's club members tend to skip that one.] He's worlds above dickhead, the fancy fucker is so poised and firm and put together. Smart too. Makes me wanna punch him. [He thinks about this for a moment.] Alright. Let's start with stupid people insults. Or smart people doing stupid stuff, that works too. So in this catagory there's wankers and muppets and plonker and pillock. You can call someone daft too, or say they lost the plot. That works for crazy too. Blert gets used back home now, meff too but I've never really bothered with either of those too. Oh! Don't forget twit either. That's always a fun one.
[He takes another drink, slowly this time.] Alright, friend. Once you've taken all of that in, we can move on to crazy insults or just general asshole insults.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-08 01:08 am (UTC)[Late night Monty Python reruns on PBS were some of the only British cred Ronstadt had going for him. Nana had been a big fan of the old Public Broadcasting System, but she'd been more about the period dramas and Masterpiece Theater.]
Blert sounds dumb, I can see why you don't use it. [he thinks back to a group of tourists he'd heard in line at his favorite churro stand, and realizes -] Hey, isn't there some word "neff", or "naff"? Seems too close for meff.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-10 08:17 pm (UTC)[He nods in agreement with blert. It's just not his favorite at all.] Ah, naff. You can put it down to tacky or tasteless. Maybe unimpressive. Even if it's got more use than just that.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-11 05:24 am (UTC)[his face falls, and he sighs into his Mai Tai]
Maaaan, and I thought it was a compliment. I mean, she was grinning when she said it and everything. "Mate, your shirt is well naff." And she and her friend giggled, and I figured they were like, into me.
[Ronstadt snorts a laugh]
Guess I shouldn't have offered to pick up their churro tab.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 03:04 am (UTC)[John didn't really fall well into any of the gay scenes, it's not that he didn't crave the kindship to some degree when he was young, but he was always so angry and so moved by other things. Mainly, magic and the punk scene as it slammed into life and left people in awe of the shameless energy.
And as a bisexual man, he didn't know if he was ever really allowed to be a part of it.
He still wonders sometimes, if he'd be allowed.]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 03:35 am (UTC)[he raised his glass to John]
If any gay guys came near me it'd probably be to give me and my apartment a makeover, you know? And no one is touching my hair, no matter how sweet they are to me.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 04:49 am (UTC)[He raises his glass as well, and clinks it gently against Ronstadt's.]
What, you wouldn't let me mess with your hair? I'm not gay, per say, but the sleeps with men business has to count for something. [He's obviously teasing, it's all in jest.]
super minor finale spoiler
Date: 2021-09-12 04:59 am (UTC)[the question about his hair makes him laugh a little. he'd just scarcely found the right spell to grow back the bits Hattie cut out for her potion when he met John, so he was pretty self-conscious of that.]
Touch it, sure, but - no one cuts it unless they're like ... a qualified barber or something. Never again.
[as a show of good faith, he leans forward across the table and dips his head. there is a stunning lack of product in that blond mop. he's very fluffy.]
"His questions ARE pretty dumb."
[this from Monty as she comes back to top off his glass again]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 05:14 am (UTC)[John's voice comes through warmly, absolutely sincere and honestly wanting to be helpful. He's at this perfect point for social talk and open to pretty much anything. So if Ronstadt has questions, John has answers.]
Sounds like a smart plan. Besides... [He eyes the hair a little.] It kind of does it's own thing. You might have to find a genius of hairdressing to get anywhere with it.
[Oh, oh, John can't resist. He runs his fingers through it fondly for a moment, feeling his heart slam in his chest. He feels like a fucking kid again, before everything was so painful and miserable. It's cute. This whole situation is cute and innocent in it's own strange way.
Oh, and then there's Monty.] I do too, so he's in good company. [John decides to make an order before she heads off.] Hey, luv, get me one of those Mai Tais too, will you? When it Rome, after all... [He pulls his fingers away, but the impact of being allowed touch still stands.]
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 05:30 am (UTC)[Monty grins once her back is turned to them. Normally, she'd give them a week. But Ronstadt's thick as a post. She bumps it out to a month or so.]
There's a chick in Encino that just kind of ... trims it here and there like a hedge. I don't know how she does it. Maybe she's magic too.
[Ronstadt leans his temple into John's hand for a fraction of an instant, and his first thought is that Faye hadn't even gotten the chance to do that. That makes his heart crack a little, one of the little fragments breaking free, and he closes his eyes until the twinge of pain is gone.]
Anything, huh? Okay. I guess I'll hit you with the big one first. How did you know you were a both sides kinda guy? And - okay, follow up. Did you like girls first, or guys?
no subject
Date: 2021-09-12 05:46 am (UTC)He's still way more focused on Ronstadt, though. Especially how he leans in, just a bit, and John doesn't want to dwell too much on it but damn it feels good. But then the question hits and it's easy to answer. Easy to focus on that.]
So one of my friends, way back when, used to practice kissing with me. Just for the birds, of course. We didn't want to look like we didn't know how to handle ourselves. But I liked it a bit much, if you know what I mean. [He smiles, fondly. He misses those days, sometimes. He never had an easy life, but in what counted for his halcyon days, it was so much simpler than now.] I had a bird pretty fast, but I'd keep meeting up with a mate and we'd bang on the weekends. Didn't even see it as serious, he said it didn't count. [It counted to John, though.] You know, that it wasn't cheating because we were both boys. And for a lot of them, it was just a way to get their rocks off. [He tilts his head, thinking of how to word things.] She was sweet. Too good for me. Really liked her. But I felt the same way about the friends I was fucking too. That kind of solidified it for me.
this fake Ronstadt memory guest narrated by Peter Falk
Date: 2021-09-12 05:58 am (UTC)Monty sets down Constantine's mai tai, sees the look in his eyes, and takes Ronstadt's half-empty one, deciding to throw the poor guy a bone. She knows a break-up chat when she sees one, and she also knew he'd been glued to that phone even when he'd walked in the door. Poor guy.]
Thanks, Monty. ...
[Ronstadt tries to rally, find a way to continue the conversation without burdening Constantine with even more of his problems. He has to at least try. He'll give him the bullshit memory, see if he notices.]
My first kiss ... definitely with a girl. She was a total jerk to me, but ... she was so pretty I didn't care. It was ridiculous: her wish was my command, pretty much. But finally one day I think it hit her that I liked her. There was this gorgeous sunset, you know? Picture perfect. And she just walked up to me and planted one on me. And - you know how there are all those movies and books and stuff about perfect first kisses? That one blew 'em all away.
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Date: 2021-09-12 06:12 am (UTC)And he sees the envy, and he genuinely wonders if this man has never been kissed before. Or maybe he's a virgin. Maybe that's why that expression crossed his face. John is almost ready to laugh, to clasp him on the arm and tell him that the sex was so shitty that he might as well have not been having it, but then he gets something from Ronstadt that stops him.
He can't help but to listen. And his eyebrow slowly raises higher and higher as the description of the 'memory' continues.] Is that so? [He swears he's seen this scene in a cheesy eighties flick before.] Sounds like something straight from the movies. Must have been fantastic. Was Take My Breath Away playing in the background? [He takes a long drink of the Mai Tai, and then blinks at it. Holy shit, the thing is sweet and doesn't taste alcoholic at all. Dangerous stuff.
He turns back to Ronstadt after that, softer in his expression.] You don't have to lie to me. If it was bad, it was bad. I've had some god-awful kisses. One of them bad enough that I needed stitches. There's no need to glorify things.
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Date: 2021-09-12 06:19 am (UTC)No Berlin, no, but it was something about storybooks. Jesus. Okay, I - I need to level with you. On something big. Something I wouldn't have even realized if Faye hadn't wanted to try and really get to know me. You're the only other person who knows this. Or is about to.
[Ronstadt shifts a little in the booth. He waits for Monty to come back with his own Mai Tai, gives her a smile and a salute - their little signal that he's OK - and takes a slower, more controlled sip. His gaze lingers on the cherry for a moment, then he leans across the table again, lowering his voice.]
I don't remember most of my life. The only things I know are real are the stuff right before I discovered my power. ... Everything else? Movies. TV shows. Yogurt commercials. All fake. And I've got no idea why.
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Date: 2021-09-12 06:37 am (UTC)But what he says, low and quiet, rocks John a bit. There are quite a few spells that affect memory. But very few that would replace all of them entirely. Amnesia could take a lot from a person, but with the timing? This all but advertises that dark magic was involved in the act.] Bloody hell. How did you find out that it was all fake? What gave it away?
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Date: 2021-09-16 05:05 am (UTC)We were at a party my friend Vez's family was having. He showed us his workshop garage, and then left us alone, trying to be a wingman, I guess. Faye started asking me questions about my life, trying to get to know me. What my parents were like, how it was growing up outside L.A., what I did for summers between school. After maybe ten minutes she got real pale and said it was really pissing her off that I'd treat her like that. I didn't get it. I really didn't get it. When she realized I really didn't know why she was so pissed, she brought me back to her apartment and pulled up YouTube. My horrible Christmas vacation really belonged to some blonde kid in a movie called Home Alone. Senior year? Another movie. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. THe way I described my grade school lunchroom was a commercial. My classmates were allegedly Teen Wolf and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I didn't know any of that because I'd never seen any of those things in my life. I honestly thought they were mine.
{he takes the cherry out of his Mai Tai and lets it dangle by the stem between his fingers, watching it catch the light]
The only thing I'm even a little certain is real is the ice cream stand where I worked when my powers kicked in. Nana's Super Splits. And now I'm so messed up about all of this that I don't even know if she was real. ... You ever heard of anything where there's a little old lady allergic to maraschino cherry preservatives?
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Date: 2021-09-16 05:28 am (UTC)Someone really wanted Rosntadt's past to die. And they didn't care how sloppily they had to cobble together a new one for him.
But...
Why wouldn't they just kill him if he was that big of a concern? That's just as shocking as the memories being falsified with nostalgia entertainment.]
Christ. [He looks genuinely concerned. He wonders if part of the reason things ended up so badly with Faye is what happened with the false memories that day. She probably thinks that Ronstadt is disturbed. And maybe he is. It's hard not to be, to some degree, when dealing with their line of work.] Well, there's only one way to find out about Nana. Where was she located? That makes things a lot easier for me. [He's googling it on his phone already.]
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Date: 2021-09-16 05:43 am (UTC)[Even as he says it, and knows it's true, he feels odd. Like that's a name that is linked to something else. but something good.]
Hemingford, Nebraska. Lots of farmland, really ... picture postcard stuff.
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From:/shamelessly steals local used vinyl store
From:As you should!
From: