un: wooden dice.

[strewth]

[The voice is definitely English, a scouse accent mixing slightly with bits of Cockney, if one is the sort to recognize it.]

Lovely weather we're having in this sodding fishbowl. Nearly reminds me of home. Ah, hfff, something to lighten the spirit. I've got a story.

Have you lot heard of Ellethia? Couldn't tell you how it's spelled; I haven't the foggiest whether we're playing with Fake Latin or fake Greek. Gorgeous country, it is; proper Byronic. Maybe fake Greek, then.

It were haunted.

D'you remember a bloke prancing around during the communal head trip? Stroppy bastard he was, complaining to me about tea and infanticide. Reckon he had more sparkling conversation for you lot. Wore white. Ghosts in your Ellethia said he got a uniform from them. Or from there, at least.

Don't all rush to thank me. Weren't alone. Your girl Lila, she were dead helpful. Distracted the ghosts she did. I'm sure she'll love the credit, hehh.

And that'd make me John Constantine. [It rhymes with Clementine.] Ain't me first brush with ghosts, let's say. Magic, that rubbish, have you ever seen any? The real stuff, I mean.

Comments

[strewth]

Christ almighty. This how I sound? Shoot me. If they've speed here I'll be wanting to speak with your supply. So far it's just downers. I haven't the need to tranquilize a sodding horse just yet.

It's all rubbish, mate. Don't make it less real, or less, hehh, impossible.

[thedreamer]

Blimey - shoot you? When you're so helpful with the ghosts?

Plenty of speed, but no way to share it. More's the pity! Okay, magic, real magic - Lake District, 1927, clotted cream, stale scones, a game of chess, and a particularly delightful duck.

[strewth]

You really ain't convincing me you've not got some amphetamines stocked up someplace.

Now he catches on. Magic's just the dance we do when we don't watch our feet none.

[thedreamer]

Why would I ever need amphetamines? I come by this naturally. Lucky for you, we're trapped here together, it's bound to rub off eventually.

I do make it a habit never to watch my feet when I dance. Ruins the fun. Don't want to know where I'm going, I'll find out eventually when I get there.

[strewth]

Drug advice and flirting, Christ, I'm outpaced.

Proper practitioner you are, then.

[thedreamer]

Well, I do dabble -

Hang on, flirting? Long time, bit rusty. Which part? Well done, was it? I'm open to feedback, really.

[strewth]

[A long sigh.]

Were a joke, mate. 'Rubbing off', ennit.

[thedreamer]

Rubbing off - yes, of course it was, it was a joke. Brilliant!

[ It's unclear who's 'brilliant' in this assessment. He also missed that it was a joke - how to recover this - ]

Do love a good joke, me. Puns are a particular favorite. Humans have clever little puns. Well! Should have led with this probably, but glad to meet you, John Constantine. Sort of meet. Not quite official, is it?

[strewth]

Fucking puns. I've met worse, worse ways, too. Don't take it personal.

[thedreamer]

I don't take anything personal. Where's the fun in that? There's worse than me, there's better than me. I might insist you share with the class sometime, though, the class being me. I love a good story.