It's coming on to rain now with perfect timing, the drops running down my face so that from a distance you could mistake them for tears. Don't you believe it, mate. Don't you fucking believe it.

John Constantine

Johnny-Boy, the Laughing Magician, the Knight of Counterculture

Human, with a bit of injected Incubus blood.

Does he look his age? [60] Hell no.

Six feet tall

157 pounds

Exorcist, con man, whore

Bisexual, masochistic, submissive

Chain smoker, habitual drinker

Single. He doesn't believe in love.

Former blood slave.

Master of his own soul once more.

John was born in Liverpool, England, on May 10th, 1953. His mother died giving birth to him, and so did the identical twin he was supposed to have- in an early sign of the life he was to live, he strangled his brother in the womb, which led to both deaths. His father never let him forget this. He was abused physically, mentally, and sexually throughout his childhood, to the point that one day, he couldn't take it one more moment. He discovered magic by complete accident, through an old books written by some crackpot who probably didn't realize that what he had created would actually work. He ran away, leaving a dead cat buried and rotting in the back yard, his father declining while alive in time with the decay. He never looked back.

His twenties were spent fronting a punk rock band called Mucous Membrane. They were by no means legendary, but early on a scene that today is a piece of world-famous culture. The name is still heard from time to time- after all, they created a music video before such things were common.

As John fell into this world, he began to realize that he could see things others either were blind to or tried to ignore. Ghosts, demons, angels, vampires, werewolves, shifters...all of it was right there, living in the world behind the world, right alongside humanity. And all of it wanted to kill him. At least, that's what he thought at the time. Who wouldn't have a breakdown over that? Feeling the pressure of being a well-known magus early in years, John decided he'd take on himself a much larger exorcism than he'd ever done before. It resulted in a young girl being trapped in hell, himself emerging alone still tightly holding the hand now attached to nothing but a severed arm.

He was convicted of murder, but shortly after exonerated due to lack of evidence. He was placed in the Ravenscar Institute for the Dangerously Deranged, where the orderlies did no less than put him through unnecessary treatments during the day and torture him at night. He was released a broken man, and his bravado was stripped away. Once alone, he attempted suicide, only to damn himself to hell and be brought back promptly after in an ambulance.

Shortly after, he moved to Los Angeles, where he resides now. His flat is far from elaborate, but it's good enough for him. He's been known to be evicted from time to time when he can't pay his rent. His landlord doesn't ever rent it to anyone else, though. It seems the exorcist has him under his charms.

Living in the City of the Angels has been both a blessing and a venom for John. When he was younger, he fell into the hands of a small vampire coven, who kept him as an involuntary blood slave for a period spanning three years. He was forcefully injected with Incubus blood when in captivity, which gave him a bit of a healing factor when it comes to bites and keeps him from dying of bleeding out. 

He's had a lot of lovers, both male and female, and from all different breeds imaginable. He's got a propensity to lean towards demons and vampires because he was taught to enjoy a bite so much. He's just as likely to go with either gender. In truth, he might be more pansexual than bisexual. But after a few abusive relationships that left him with more scars than memories, he's skittish about ever committing again. 

His greatest pleasure in life comes from beating enemies of all sizes with his wit, verbal skills, and raw charm. Don't be fooled by his appearance- his true strength cannot be seen until it is far too late, as many have figured out before their one-way trip to hell. He could go toe-to-toe with just about any supernatural creature if he truly wished to. Instead, though, he lets them kick him around and assume a false sense of superiority. He finds it useful to have them cocky and therefore vulnerable, in case he ever does need to make them fall.

He is unkempt and messy, stubble dotting his jawline. He generally wears a button-down (usually white) shirt, loosely hanging tie, black or brown pants, dirty tan trenchcoat, worn black combat boots. A simple cord about his neck and usually hidden beneath his shirt bears a ring, engraved with runes that once spoke of perfect love and perfect trust, a gift from the one lover he would have been happy to spend eternity with.

As for scars, he bears many. A light one runs down from above his left eyebrow to the corner of his lip. On his neck, there are two clear marks. One was once the sign of a blood slave, but it holds no meaning over him now. The other was the bite of a consort and a lover, but he is long dead. His collarbones are lined with bites, as he is unable to heal them cleanly when they are placed off his neck. His wrists are covered in shallow, self-inflicted wounds. A longer scar, the darkest of all, is from a successful suicide. The word whore is carved into his right wrist, not by his own hand, for all to see, should his sleeves be back enough.

On his forearms, the family sigil has been tattooed in two parts. On his back, there are a few sigils and words of Latin trailing their way across his shoulders.

John hates the Beatles, needles, people who mispronounce his last name, and can barely drive. Don't trust him with your car. Just don't.

Abilities and Aptitudes include:

Cunning, vast occult knowledge, manipulation, seduction, divination, summoning, cursing, spirit wards, golemancy, oculmancy, necromancy, vivimancy, illusion, synchronicity highway, master of stage magic, psychic, backwards magic, masterful lies, sharp tongue.

Family:

AJ, Matt, Grayson, Shun, Gemma, Finn, Azazel, Chas

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John Constantine/Hellblazer  © 1985-2013 Vertigo/DC

-John hits on just about everyone. He has also been known to sleep around. HOWEVER:

No smut with anybody underage. Period.

I refuse to write that kind of stuff just for the sake of it. Plot moving? Sure. Significant event? Sure. But not just for the act.

-I am not my character. If my character is involved with yours somehow, his feelings towards you are not my own.

-If I haven't gotten back to you in...say, four days, and there's no notice of my absence, ask me. It may have bounced, I may have forgotten, or something else could have happened.