We still haven't gotten the writer's notes or the
outtakes sorted out yet, but the main part, the
story itself, seems to be all in order.
if you catch any goofs or such, please do give
us a line, eh?
hope you enjoy....
-r
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
prelude
gemma
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
Eighteen years ago...
John Constantine, uncle.
That, to John, sounded about as right as The Best of The Sex
Pistols, as performed by the London Symphony Orchestra.
The stupid balloons and the teddy bear he was carrying were
also, he thought, painfully out of place. But then again,
what else do you bring to your newborn niece?
"Feel like a bloody idiot," he grumbled.
John hated kids. Nothing but small noisemakers that wreck
the neighborhood and grow up to wonder what you did to mess
up the planet.
The slight hangover he had wasn't helping either. A subtle,
but nagging headache loomed in his skull.
Oh well.
With a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. A moment later, a
young woman with short blond hair answered the door.
"John?" she asked uncertainly. "Is that you?"
He smiled crookedly. "Hi, Cheryl. Long time no see."
Her face immediately darkened. "John Constantine, of all
the nerve! Where have you BEEN for the last few years? Do
you have ANY idea how much I've been worrying?!"
Great. He set sis off on 'mother hen' mode. It was only
natural, he knew, since she helped raise him when their
mother died, but still...
"Aw, Cheryl, c'mon-"
"You don't call, you don't write, for all I know you were
dead!"
"Jesus, Cheryl, I'm sorry! Okay?"
Her frown turned into a smile suddenly as she caught him by
surprise and gave him a hug. "Don't do it again, you stupid
little bastard."
"Okay sis, I won't," assured John, returning the hug,
greatly relieved that the pestering mode was over. "Now...
where's the little tyke?"
"C'mon, this way," she said as she lead him into the modestly
small house. "Really, though. It's been two months since
she was born. Where've you been?"
"Oh, here'n there," said John.
They came to a room painted in pristine white, highlighted
in pink. Lots of frilly... stuff... just lots of frilly
stuff dominated the room.
And in a little white crib, sleeping soundly, was the sprog.
It had little pink fingers, an' little pink toes, and a cute
little nose, and a cute little tuft of hair atop her head.
John looked at it with much fear. Demons, he could handle.
Babies were entirely a mystery. "Hallo there, kid. Oi,
Cheryl, what's her name?"
"Gemma. You like it?"
"Gemma, eh?" He shrugged. "Not bad."
"Well, I'll just put these balloons and the teddy bear over
here," he said, stepping away from the crib as quickly as
possible.
A slight hissing sound came from the doorway.
"Oh shite, the stove!" cried Cheryl. "I'll be right back!"
She left the room quickly, leaving John alone with Gemma.
Having nothing better to do, he hovered at the crib's edge
and peered down at Gemma curiously.
And then she opened her eyes.
And for a moment, they stared at each other.
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
"Oh shit! CHERYL! CHERYL!"
"Hold on, John!" yelled Cheryl from the kitchen.
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
"Cheryl, she's havin' the mother of all hissy fits here!"
"What did you do to her?!"
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
"It's not my fault!" yelled John. "I swear!"
"Hold on a moment! I'm almost done!"
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
Well, thought John, that wasn't fast enough. With the
crying driving him mad and making his even worse, he had a
few options.
Option one was to get the hell out, a reasonable idea.
Except that Cheryl might kill him for leaving the baby
alone.
Option two was to try to quiet the kid by himself.
He took one of her small hands in his and wiggled it.
"Heyheyheyhey, wossamatter, eh?"
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
"Shh, c'mon, mum's on her way, at's a good girl...."
*WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH*
"Bugger."
His mind raced through a few things he'd heard of about
babies. It had either shat, pissed, or it was hungry.
In those cases, nothing he'd do would help. Though
sometimes they just liked to be carried, right?
Hmm...
"Heeey, easy now, shh, c'mon, come t'uncle John." He lifted
her slowly, carefully, then cradled her in his arms. She
squirmed about for a moment more, then began to settle down.
Her cries settled down until they were just gurgles and
coos.
"There, issat what ya wanted?"
The child's eyes looked blindly around the room, then
settled on his again.
He braced himself for the worst.
And she smiled.
There were very few moments in which cynical, hard-boiled,
don't-take-shit John Constantine was ever filled with
wonder.
This was one of them.
He saw hope, promise, infinite possibilities, innocence
unspoiled, a million things he thought was gone from the
earth, all in her eyes.
For a moment, he forgot he was a mage, and thought of
himself as an uncle. Silently he swore that he'd protect
her, no matter what.
And then she spat up on his arm.
"Ewwww, jeez! CHERYYYYYYYYYYL!"
- e n d p r e l u d e -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 1
accidents will happen
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
There is such a thing as Destiny.
Take, for example, the infamous line of the family
Constantine. Theirs is a bloodline marked by magic,
triumph, and tragedy. Among the more notable Constantines
was King Kon-sten-tyn, king of England after the fall of
Arthur, Harry Constantine, cursed by the Ribbon Queen to
live for eternity in rotting flesh, and the Lady Johanna
Constantine, who was a spy and adventuress involved in
many run-ins with the occult.
The touch of magic has always been with the line of
Constantine, in one form or another. More often than not,
it left scars on their lives that would never heal.
It is destiny that every generation of Constantine be
touched by magic.
Thus, it was on one somewhat warm late summer day that a cat
with a particular wand was on its way to London, where it
knew a young lady by the name of Gemma Constantine Masters
was living.
It was time for her to face Destiny.
However, the oddest thing happened. Destiny ran headlong
into John Constantine.
- - -
"Out! Scat! Bloody bag of shite!"
*MREOOOOOOOOOWAAAAAAAAAAWWWR*
With a swift boot to the rear, John Constantine sent the
white cat flying into the air and out of his townhouse door.
It tumbled in a most un-catlike manner down the stairs, into
the street, and narrowly avoided getting hit by a passing
bicycle. As it scrambled to get to its feet, it rolled
about violently... and smacked its head right up against a
lamp post.
The cat raised its head slowly, then seemed to pass out.
John watched it with a little confusion and a lot of
amusement. Didn't cats usually land on their feet?
"S'gotta be the clumsiest bloody cat I've ever seen."
He shook his head, picked up the newspaper, and turned back
to his doorway. One step later, his foot stepped on
something, causing him to slip and fall, almost following
the same path as the cat.
"Ow! What the frig?!" He slowly rose to his feet and
looked for the object he'd tripped on.
It seemed to be a pen. A gaudy, glitzy sort of pen, but
still a pen.
And radiating from it, if only faintly, he sensed magic.
Carefully, he picked it up and examined it. Aside from
sensing magic within it, he couldn't see anything
particularly spectacular about it. He shrugged, put it in
his shirt pocket, and returned to his newly acquired (by
means that he would never disclose) townhouse.
He made his way to the kitchen, where the smell of eggs and
bacon greeted his nose. By the stove was a young lady,
blessed with school girl looks, short brown hair and a sunny
disposition. She waved a spatula as John entered.
"G'morning, Uncle John."
"G'mornin', Gemma." John took a deep breath, inhaling the
aroma of freshly cooked food. It was something that wasn't
often done in his kitchen, except for the fried spam.
Otherwise it was a long line of microwavable goods.
"Mmm, breakfast smells great."
"Thanks. Eggs, bacon, and toast right'ere." She brought a
plate over to the kitchen table, with all the aforementioned
items on it.
John immediately dug in, then paused. "What, no beer?"
"Too early for that," chastised Gemma.
"Fine, fine, give us some orange juice then. Bloody health
nut." He spent a few minutes groggily devouring his
breakfast, then took a break to read over the newspaper.
"So, ready for your first day of college?" he asked Gemma.
"Mm-hm. I just wish they weren't renovating the bloody
dorms," said Gemma, looking apologetic.
"Aw, you can stay as long as you need, Gemma. D'worry about
it."
Gemma smiled. "Thanks, Uncle John."
He pulled out the odd pen-thing one more time and stared at
it. The thing didn't seem to have an opening, cap, no. No
buttons either. Definitely not a pen.
Quite possibly, the shortest magic wand he'd ever seen.
John snorted, remembering a joke about wand length.
Gemma, with her own breakfast done, joined him at the table.
She noticed the object immediately and felt an intense wave
of curiosity hit.
"What's that?" she asked.
John frowned and put the thing back in his pocket.
"Possibly trouble. Don't mind it, Gemma."
"Can I see it?" she asked, holding out a hand.
"Maybe later, Gemma. Okay?"
"C'mon, please?"
He gave her a firm look. "S'magic, Gemma. Remember what I
told you about magic?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, I shouldn't mess about
with it."
While she knew that terrible things had happened to her
uncle because of magic, Gemma was still curious about it.
She also thought her uncle was terribly hypocritical about
it. Telling her to not touch it, then turning around and
messing about with it himself?
Seemed a bit unfair, that did.
For now, Gemma gave up on seeing the pen, but she silently
vowed to get a hold of it later, by hook or by crook.
- - -
Somewhere in his maze, the robed figure known as Destiny was
pacing about calmly as he was known to do. His book, in
which the tale of mankind was written, was open, as it often
was.
He looked a bit puzzled, which was considerably out of the
ordinary for him.
His confusion washed away once he read some fine print on
the page.
John Constantine.
Ah. Well. That would explain it then.
With a neutral expression back on his face, he closed the
book and continued his walk.
- - -
The cat had a headache.
There was something on its mind... something about... a
stick? A wand? Sailors?
Aaaagh, couldn't remember. It wondered where it got the
headache. Perhaps it hit that lamp post? Probably.
It got to its feet unsteadily and wobbled down the street,
trying furiously to remember what it was that was so
important.
Sailor.... sailor.... something about sailor...
Maybe sailors going fishing?
Hm.
Fish sounded good.
It decided it was hungry and went off in search of fish.
And, it reasoned, if whatever it forgot was truly
important, it'd remember sooner or later.
- - -
It had been an uneventful day so far, just the typical
routine for John.
Stop by Bill's and collect the money he'd won off the horses
(the 'rent money' he called it) and other assorted sports
gambling activities, swing over to some of the local
occultist dives to get some news and make some trades, and
finally over to Meadow Lane Retirement Center.
That last one was the 'itch' of the day, as he called it.
Something odd and supernatural was going on there, and an
old neighbor who was now stuck in that place, old Mrs.
Moore, had called up and asked him to look into it.
Ordinarily, he'd never be caught dead doing charity work,
but as of late it had been staggeringly quiet. John was an
addict of occult activity, and he needed to scratch that
itch.
That, and Mrs. Moore was a nice enough lady. It didn't hurt
that Mrs. Moore was a 'sensitive' either, which meant that
when she had a feeling about something, there was usually a
good reason for it.
It was going to be a routine 'house cleaning'.
Or so he thought.
- - -
Gemma Masters sat under a tree, idly killing time by
doodling until her next class was to begin. She hadn't had
a good sleep last night, mainly because of this odd
recurring dream she'd been having recently.
The details were sketchy in her mind, always rushing out of
her memory as she woke up and leaving Gemma with only bits
and pieces of the dream.
A majestic kingdom.
A terrible evil.
Darkness.
Space.
Stars.
A cloaked figure.
An explosion.
She shook her head at it all, irritated that the images in
her mind wouldn't gel together. Then she looked at her
paper and frowned.
Sketched by her own hand was the image of a planet.
Exploding.
- - -
The Meadow Lane Retirement Center was, in John's eyes, a
ghastly example of good intentions messing things up. The
center occupied floors eight through fourteen of the Meadow
Lane Medical Center, a thirty floor complex dedicated to
medical research and health care. The elderly got a nice
bonus since the nearest hospital was just a few floors up.
On the other hand, the hospital got their patients easier,
could bring them in cheaper than using an ambulance, and
there was quite a bit of suspicion that they were running
secret experiments on the tenants.
John casually ignored the 'no smoking' sign and entered the
tower, heading straight for the elevators.
As he hit floor eight, he looked around and scowled in
disgust. Sterile air, sterile floors, sterile walls,
sterile chairs, there was so much sterility it made John
shiver with revulsion.
An elderly woman, with long white hair and a slight stoop
in her posture greeted John. "Hello, dearie. Nice t'see
you again."
"Hello, Mrs. Moore. Your son chucked you away to here? You
ought to have someone kick his arse."
"Oh hush, John," replied Mrs. Moore, giving him a light bap
on the arm. "It's better this way. 'Sides, I can't stand
the little tart he married. Smarmy little bitch, she is."
John nodded and resumed walking down the halls, saying an
occasional hello to the various senior citizens within.
Silently, he vowed to himself that this would never, ever be
his fate.
He paused.
There, in the air.
The faintest of scents.
Blood. Brimstone. Candles.
"Bloody hell."
"Y'sense something, Johnny?" asked Mrs. Moore.
"Yeah luv. I think... you'd best get back to yer room."
"Oh, messy business, is it?"
"Yeah, you can say that."
It was a summoning. Not just the run-of-the-mill demon
summoning either. Whoever was doing the summoning was
reaching to the dark dimensions, the great unknown of the
occult. Reaching into that world always ended in chaos and
disaster, and every now and then something nasty with
tentacles.
Well, he'd put an end to that nonsense.
Following his senses, he took the elevator and began to
ascend to the 14th floor. He paused, and looked down at the
floor he was just on. The 12th floor.
Oh. Right. There was some sort of superstition. No 13th
floors in buildings. So technically, the 14th floor was
the 13th floor.
Hmmm.
"How bloody appropriate," he deadpanned.
Then he began to feel it in the air. Something was
stirring, building up, rising.
Magic.
And suddenly the power spiked. Static energy filled the air
and buzzed in his ears.
It only meant one thing: he was too late.
- - -
Jack Emerson was 87 years old... and hating it. This tired
frame, these aches and pains, they served to remind him of
the slow and steady decay of his body.
He would have none of it.
Jack remembered better days, when the young women swooned at
his touch and the men moved out of his path. Now the young
ladies flinched at his touch and the men treated him like a
joke.
No more.
Oh, he'd found a way, yessir, found a way to recapture the
glory of youth. It just involved making a deal with the
devil. Of course, there would be a price to pay, but he
wasn't willing to offer his soul.
There was, however, an entire building of tired, useless,
unsuspecting spirits, all around him. Useless buggers.
Besides, nobody would notice a heart attack or two now and
then, not in a senior citizen's home.
With a final stroke of charcoal upon the floor, he completed
an intricate pattern of lines and spirals upon the once
sterile floor.
A gust of wind swirled through the room and the lights all
dimmed. At the heart of the complex diagram, a column of
smoke arose.
- - -
Out of the darkness of the great beyond, she rushed towards
the earth realm. Her kind hadn't been doing so well lately,
with the fall of Queen Beryl and Queen Metallia. Still,
they managed to eek out an existence in the Dark Kingdom.
She was the first to come to earth after the fall.
Her brothers and sisters had tried to rush forth on their
own before, in the heydey of Queen Beryl, and it'd gotten
them zapped by THEM, those girls in short skirts and magical
sticks. On the whole, she felt it was a silly way for their
kind to die.
She decided to do it the old fashioned way, via contract.
And she decided to do it FAR away from THEM, and London
was very and nicely far away.
The world around her began to shift into focus, and she soon
found herself standing at the center of a diagram of
summoning. Briefly, she looked herself over to make sure
everything made it through the trip.
There were a few rare instances where those that were
summoned made the trip missing a few... things... due to
the summoner's incompetence.
All body parts, check.
Flowing black cape, check.
Spiffy and sexy black pseudo-military uniform, check.
She took a moment to straighten out her cloak and hair, then
took a quick peek at the mirror in the room.
Ah, perfect.
Right then, to work.
The room she found herself in was amazingly drab. White
walls, white ceiling, white lights, white sheet. The only
thing not white was the black diagram on the floor. An old
man stood at the diagram's edge, eyeing her lecherously.
"Who is it that summons me?" she asked.
"I, Jack Emerson, summon you," said the old man.
"What is it you wish for, Jack Emerson?" she asked.
"I wish for youth."
"What do you offer?" she asked.
"I offer souls, the souls of those that dwell within this
tower."
The door slowly creaked open, surprising them both. A lone
figure clad in a trenchcoat stood there and looked at them
both calmly.
"Not so fast, squire," he said.
She looked at the stranger with mild irritation. He seemed
to be ordinary enough. At least he wasn't one of those
lunatic girls with short skirts and magic wands.
- - -
Buried deep within a pocket of John's trenchcoat, the
mysterious pen began to glow.
It sensed one of THEM near.
Something would have to be done, but the chosen one was
nowhere near.
It was having an anxiety attack.
Because Gemma Masters was not here.
- - -
"Now what's going on here, eh?" asked John. He looked first
at the old man, then the young woman, and finally the
diagram.
Mm-hm. Definitely summoning from the dark dimensions. At
least the old fart didn't summon up something with
tentacles. That would've been a bloody nuisance and a half.
The next trick would be to get the woman.... demoness....
whatever she was.... back to wherever she belonged.
"Do not intrude, mortal," said the woman.
"Bugger off, ya cheeky wanker!" growled the old man.
"You," said John, pointing at the old man, "shut the fuck
up. And you," he said, pointing to the woman, "exactly who
the hell are you?"
She stood tall and proud. "I am Calcite of the Dark
Kingdom."
Dark Kingdom? John frowned. Hadn't heard that one before.
"Calcite? Innit the stuff that comes with milk?"
"Bugger off, damn you!" wheezed the old man.
The woman scowled, fire lighting around her. "How DARE
you!"
John shrugged. The girl didn't seem to be much, a typical
soul peddler. The old man was an occult novice, so there
wasn't anything to worry about there. Just dismantle this
little scene peacefully then go home for some Guinness.
But first, the trademark cigarette.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, then
paused just as it was inches from his face.
Wait.
That wasn't a cigarette.
It was that bloody stupid pen.
- - -
Calcite gasped. That man had one of THOSE wands.
- - -
Jack nearly tore his hair out. He ALMOST had the ceremony
done! Damn that... that... that young punk!
- - -
John stared at the pen for a moment, mesmerized by the
swirling patterns on its surface. It seemed to encourage
him to say whatever came naturally to his mind. It seemed,
in fact, very urgent that he say what came naturally to his
mind.
What naturally came to his mind at that point were these
words:
"Bloody friggin' hell..."
The wand somehow seemed puzzled, an amazing achievement in
itself. Those weren't quite the words, no. Normally, it'd
be something like 'MOON CRYSTAL POWER, MAKE UP!' or 'PLUTO
PLANET POWER, MAKE UP!' or something like that.
'Bloody friggin' hell' was not quite it.
It was, however, the words that came naturally to the
subject's mind.
So....
*POOF*
"What the.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGH!!!"
- - -
Lectures, thought Gemma, were a bloody bore. She seriously
mulled over sneaking out of the auditorium, bumming off her
classmates' notes later on.
Suddenly, she felt a chill run through her spine. It was as
if something had left her... a piece of her soul, perhaps.
She frowned and shrugged off the feeling, blaming it on not
enough sleep, then snuck out.
- - -
Calcite stood there, gaping. She'd heard of this sort of
thing, but never actually seen it or really believed it.
Where once there stood an ordinary man, there was now a
young woman. Not just a young woman, but a young woman
dressed all in black, with a ridiculously short pleated
skirt, arm length gloves, and knee high boots.
And she was holding the wand.
"Oh no," she whimpered. "It's one of them."
- - -
Instincts were racing through his body, words buzzing
through his head, and John struggled to keep them at bay.
He was a She.
She was a GIRL.
She was a GIRL in a SHORT SKIRT.
She was tremendously, royally, unmeasurably pissed off.
John raised her glare from the pen to the woman, and words,
not entirely his own, flowed from his mouth.
"Taking advantage of the elderly..." she said through
gritted teeth, "to power the forces of darkness..."
In her mind, she wondered what the hell she was saying. These
words were crap! Overdramatic bullshit that you wouldn't catch the
worst actress saying!
"In the name of... in the name of..." She shuddered,
fighting the words that were trying to come out.
There was no way in hell she was willing to say 'In the name
of love, I will punish you!'.
No.
Bloody.
Way.
John straightened herself out, pointed the wand at the
woman, and posed dramatically, though in a somewhat macho
fashion.
"In the name of love.... fuck off."
- e n d p a r t 1 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 2
london calling
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
It shook the walls of Hell, echoing through its seven
levels, shattering brittle bones and nearly knocking Charon
off his boat.
It sent a dread chill through all that heard it, this alien
sound that did not belong in the land of eternal flames.
The noise of it could be heard through even the land of
Faerie, the Mortal Plane, and even the fringes of Heaven.
The First of the Fallen was laughing his ass off.
- - -
Had things been normal, John would have wrapped up the
situation neatly. It wasn't like there was any overly
powerful demonic forces at work here, just a soul peddler
named Calcite from the dark dimensions and a geriatric
occult novice named Jack Emerson.
Except there were was one startling change to the usual
routine.
John Constantine was, at the moment, a girl. To be more
exact, he was a very young woman, clad in a black, short
pleated skirt, a black leotard of sorts, black arm length
gloves, and knee high black boots. If she had looked in the
mirror, she'd say she looked like a girl from a private
school for dominatrix types.
And she'd just said said something that felt fairly silly
and useless.
"In the name of love... fuck off."
It made the old man blink. It made John feel real stupid.
It seemed to confuse Calcite.
- - -
"In the name of love," said Calcite slowly, "fuck off?"
She was feeling a little alarmed, a bit scared, and very
confused. All those ridiculous 'Sailor Scout' types were in
Japan, weren't they? This was London.
Also, Calcite didn't quite recall those Sailor Scouts ever
being quite as... vulgar. She thought it over.
Moon Stick Up The Arse? Jupiter Thundering Butt-whipping?
Venus Bitch Slap Chain?
Nope, none of the other Sailor Scouts ever said anything
like THAT.
It was clear that this was not only a Sailor Scout, but a
deranged one.
Calcite needed an out, and needed one fast. When her
brothers and sisters clashed with one of them, they almost
always ended up dead, even the ones that decided that
running away was a good idea.
She hadn't come prepared to do battle with one of
THEM and felt that it was NOT a good day to die.
- - -
John felt instincts bubbling up in her mind, mostly cheezy
phrases and nifty action poses. She was sick of those
instincts. Because of them she was no longer a he and she'd
just said a really stupid battle phrase.
Be damned if she'd listen to THOSE instincts again.
With some effort, she shoved down the instinctual urges and
tried to do things her way.
- - -
"Y'see this rod here?" said the Sailor Scout, waving the
magic pen about.
Calcite took a nervous step back, trying to put up a brave
front. "Feh, what're you going to do, zap me with it?"
Actually, that's exactly what she was afraid was about to
happen.
This is it, Calcite thought. This is where the ridiculous
looking girl in the mini-skirt with the magic wand zaps me
and I die looking like an idiot.
"No," said the Sailor Scout. "I'm gonna shove it up yer
arse unless you go back t'where you came from."
Calcite considered this for a moment. The Sailor Scout here
wasn't going to zap her. She was actually being offered the
option to go back to the Dark Kingdom in one piece.
Righto. Time to leave!
"Okay. Seeya!" With a quick bow Calcite surrounded herself
in a small column of black smoke, then disappeared.
- - -
Jack Emerson paled with shock and alarm. "Wait! No! What
about our deal!?" His protests were in vain, as Calcite had
already gone, leaving only a small wisp of smoke in her
wake.
John sighed. It wasn't exactly her usual operating
procedure, but it worked and it didn't involve any stupid
melodramatic phrases or poses.
Now then, to make sure this didn't happen again...
John took one menacing step towards the geriatric novice
occultist, then wobbled around like an idiot as John
Constantine did not normally walk about in high heels and it
showed.
"Shit, this too?" she grumbled. After a few tentative steps
forward to get used to the feel, she stalked (it was a
really wobbly sort of stalk, but still a stalk) to the old
man and lifted him up by his shirt.
"And YOU, if you even THINK about doing this stunt ever
again, I'll make sure you end up in Hell! You got that?!"
He nodded, though his gaze seemed distracted.
"Oi!" yelled John. "You listening to me? Hey.... eh?"
It was at this point she realized he was staring down at her
cleavage.
"YOU BLOODY PERVERT!"
*WHAM*
- - -
Gemma Constantine Masters hefted her backpack a bit
unsteadily, walking from the book stop to Uncle John's
townhouse with gritted teeth. It stunned her how many books
were required for her classes, and it annoyed her greatly
how many of those required books were written by the
instructors.
Bloody vultures, those bastards.
On the whole, it'd been a so-so day. The professors didn't
seem too terrible and the course materials weren't too
terribly daunting.
It looked to be a rather pleasant first semester in college.
*MEOW*
She blinked and looked down, where a rather ragged and
battered white cat was rubbing up against her leg.
"Hello there, kitty-cat," she said, bending down to scratch
it behind the ears. The cat purred, seemingly pleased at
the contact. "You poor thing," said Gemma, "looks like
you've had a rough time of it."
The cat meowed and nodded, followed by a few *ACK*s and
*Pthppth*s.
Gemma wondered if Uncle John would mind having a cat in the
house. She didn't know why, but she felt it was important
to have the cat around.
"C'mon then, kitty. Least I can do is give you some milk."
The cat meowed enthusiastically and followed. It didn't
know who the girl was, but she seemed somewhat familiar. It
liked the girl, definitely, and felt it was very important
to be near her.
"Now," said Gemma. "What are we going to call you?"
*Meow*ack*hiss*ack*pthppth*ack*
She smiled. "I know. We'll call you Bill."
Bill? The cat thought it over. Bill didn't seem quite
appropriate, no, but it would have to do for now.
"C'mon, Bill. Let's get you that milk."
*Meow*ack*
"Ick, and we'll clean you up too. Looks like you need some
bandages. There's nasty cuts on you, like the on your head
there, see?"
*Meow?*
- - -
The elevator slowly made its way from the 14th floor. A
stunned, silent, and still female John Constantine stood
there and watched the floor meter count down to one.
He was a she.
He was a she.
He was a she.
Holy shite, he was a she.
Suddenly, she began choking the magic rod, shaking it about
violently.
"CHANGE ME BACK, YOU BLOODY STUPID FUCKING THING!!! CHANGE
ME BAAAAAAAAACK!!!"
The elevator passed several levels. The moonlight orchestra
played the flute and violin version of The Clash's 'Should I
Stay or Should I Go' on the elevator speakers.
The pen-like object remained silent.
John Constantine remained a girl.
"FUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOUUU!"
*WHAM*WHAM*WHAM*
The floor meter pinged 8. The moonlight orchestra began
their flute and cello version of 'We Will Rock You'. There
were a few magic-wand-shaped dents in the wall.
The wand was unscathed.
John was still female.
"AAAAAAAAAGH!"
She threw the wand down in disgust, sank to the floor, and
covered her face with her hands. This was a nightmare, one
big awful nightmare and yet another cosmic prank from the
gods as far as she was concerned.
Stupid mini-skirt. Stupid tits. Stupid high heels.
Damn.
Blast.
Felching Heck.
John almost yelled out 'WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!',
but after thinking it over, she had to admit she was due for
some bad karma.
But THIS?
"At least," she growled, face still buried in hands, "gimmie
my bloody trenchcoat."
With a swirl of wind, she found her trenchcoat once more
around her.
John blinked, then stared at the magic wand strewn on the
floor.
"Well then, you do listen to me, don't you."
The pen remained silent.
"Don't suppose you could turn me back now, eh?"
Nothing happened.
"Thought not."
The elevator meter pinged 1 and the doors slowly slid open.
With a sigh, she picked up the wand, closed up her
trenchcoat, and began walking.
Time to calm down, she told herself. Get your head
straight, think it over, get some facts on the matter. Now,
who to see? Dr. Occult knew about this male/female
weirdness, so he might be able to help. He was in America,
though, so that would have to wait for a while. Zatanna was
in town as part of her tour, but she wasn't sure if she
wanted Zatanna to see her like THIS.
People to see, things to do.
She'd be damned if she was going to stay a she for much
longer. There was no way she was planning on having to be a
girl long enough to need to know how a tampon worked.
First things first: she needed a lift.
- - -
Chas Chandler, professional cabbie, thought it was going to
be a normal day. So far, so good, with a nice amount of
cash in the till and not too many morons on the road.
Then he saw a girl in a trenchcoat, stumbling down the road
a bit clumsily, waving at him. That was the moment it all
went downhill.
He pulled over next to her and rolled down his window.
"Need a lift, miss?"
She smiled and ran up to the car. "Chas! Christ, I'm glad
you're here, mate."
He blinked, and his mind began racing. Girl. Short dirty
blond hair. In her 20's. Trenchcoat. No... don't know
anyone like that... um... nope... nope... don't think so...
"Um, do I know you?"
The girl's face looked confused for a moment, then scowled
with realization. "Chas, I know this is gonna sound crazy,
but it's me, John."
Chas stared at her for a moment.
"Get outta the car, y'daft bitch."
"Dammit, Chas!" yelled the woman, holding on to the car door
as it began to move forward. "Hold on a moment!"
"I'd let go of the door if I were you," grumbled Chas.
"Who else'd know you asked me to kill yer mom's bloody
monkey! Eh?"
Chas froze. The monkey incident. That was something which
would scar his soul forever. Any time he heard or saw a
monkey after that, he was rendered impotent for weeks after.
It was a truly ugly incident.
And this woman knew of it.
Possibly.
"I don't know what you're talking about, lady," he grumbled.
"C'mon, Chas! I KNOW you don't want me to talk about the
details!"
"Wot details?" He eyed her dangerously.
"Two words, Chas. Anal probe."
Oh shit.
No way.
"John?" Chas asked timidly.
"Does the trenchcoat look fuckin' familiar?" the woman
snarled. "C'mon, Chas! It's starting to rain out here and
these high heels are killin' me!"
"R-right, get in."
The woman quickly hopped in the back seat and sighed as she
settled in.
"John, issat really you?" asked Chas in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's me," said John wearily. "Mate, y'not gonna
believe the kind of day I just had..."
- - -
The Time Palace was a place outside of the normal bounds of
reality. Here, standing guard over time was the wise and
serene Sailor Pluto.
With her long, dark green hair, tall and lean form, and
serious demeanor, she was very much a mystery woman to her
fellow Sailor Scouts.
Today, something was disturbing her tranquil thoughts, a
presence she thought was long dead and put to rest. Though
with the return of the other Sailor Scouts, she guessed it
should have been expected.
Would she make the same mistakes now that she did all those
years ago?
There was only one way to find out.
- - -
"Well, here I am again," said Minako flatly. She looking
out from the windows of Heathrow airport, with nothing but
tarmac in her sights, and sighed.
London, England.
The normally cheerful and chatty girl was subdued and
contemplative. A long time ago, she'd stayed here along
with two friends, Katerina... and Alan.
Katerina was like an older sister to her. Alan was the
first man she'd ever fallen in love with. They both
shattered her heart when she found out they were in love
with each other. Disillusioned, bitter, and sad, she
disappeared from their lives and left England for good.
Or so she thought.
It is said that time heals all wounds, and those left by
Katerina and Alan were eventually mended by time and effort.
She missed them dearly, as they missed her, and all was
forgiven.
Still, a part of her heart would still loved, and would
always be in love with Alan.
And that was exactly why she was feeling somber at that
moment.
She was back.
In England.
For the wedding of Katerina and Alan.
Minako thought she was over him at last, and ready to face
the reality of Alan and Katerina, happily ever after, till
death do they part...
"Aaaargh."
What I need, she thought, is a good walk. The wedding
wasn't for another few days. There was lots of London to
wander.
And so she wandered.
- - -
It was a pub like any other, filled with mostly normal folk,
except the agitated cabbie and the irritated girl in a
trenchcoat sitting in a corner booth.
"And 'poof', you went an'... er... lost your manhood?" asked
Chas, astonished.
"Seems to be, mate." John scowled at her glass of beer for
a moment, then downed it in one fell swoop.
"Shit, John, this is... this is..."
"Pretty fucking ridiculous, innit?"
"T'say the least, mate. Wot'cha gonna do now?"
John shrugged. "Not sure. There's a few mates of mine that
might be in the know on this bollocks. Need you to gimmie a
lift for a while, okay?"
"Aw, c'mon John. Me boss'll kill me!"
"I'll kill you first," growled John. "You owe me, dammit."
"Won't do us a bit of good if I'm fired, eh?" griped Chas.
She sighed, then pulled out a wad of cash, her winnings from
the previous week's gambling. "Fine, I'll cover the bloody
cost. Here, eh?" She tossed a few bills Chas' way, then
stood up.
"Hey, where're you going?" asked Chas.
"Need 'nother beer."
"Oh."
She strode over to the bar for another glass, making sure
the trenchcoat was firmly closed around her.
"Oi! Nice arse!"
"Shattup, Chas!"
"Hahahahaha!"
For once, Chas got in a good joke at John's expense. This
just might be a good day yet, thought the cabbie.
Returning with a mug in hand, John made her way clumsily
(cursing the high heels every step of the way) through the
somewhat crowded tables. A few feet into the mess, a tragic
mistake was made.
Someone grabbed John's ass.
Startled, John dropped her drink to the floor and whirled
around to see a table full of drunk rowdies, all leering at
her.
"Awright, who's the wiseass?!" Chas heard her snarl. He
groaned, not in the mood for a bar fight, and really hoped
one didn't start now. He couldn't hear exactly what the men
were saying to her, but Chas had a bad feeling it wasn't
helping the situation.
His fears were confirmed when when she yelled and picked up
one of the ruffians by the shirt collar.
"You made me spill my friggin drink, arsehole! In the
name'a all beer drinking girls everywhere, I'm gonna kick
your arse to the moon!"
She meant to toss him over the table. Instead, she tossed
him across the room and out the window.
The bar suddenly went silent.
John looked astonished. "Oh. Bugger."
Needless to say, with a room full of people drunk to various
degrees was a powder keg waiting to explode.
"Get the bitch!"
And John had just set off the spark.
- - -
Once more the dynamic duo of Chas Chandler and John
Constantine had set off on the road, though Chas was looking
a little worse for wear, with a bruise on his face and a cut
near his eye.
"What the hell did y'do that for?!" yelled Chas.
"It was an accident!" John yelled back. "Didn't mean to
throw the man out the window! Shite, I didn't know I could
do that!" She looked at her hands as if they were dangerous
weapons, which she believed they were at the moment. "I'm
turned into Wonder Woman, Chas. This is ridiculous."
"And what the hell was that speech?"
"What speech?"
"In the name'a all beer drinking girls everywhere, et-cetera
et-cetera."
"I dunno," said John. "It just seemed to come up
automatically, reflex-like, y'know?
"Next you'll be kickin' arse in the name of Truth, Justice,
and Britania."
"Shut up, you. At least we kicked arse, eh?"
"Says the super 'ero inna mini-skirt," said Chas
sarcastically.
John frowned. "Hm. I do seem to be one'a those wankers,
now don't I? Even gots me own sidekick, Cabbie Boy."
"Har-har. Very funny." Chas smirked "Actually, you ought
t'be feeling bloody proud right now."
"Oh?" asked John. "How d'ya figure that?"
"S'the first time you didn't get yer arse beaten silly in a
fist fight."
John had to admit, that was entirely true.
"Har-bloody-har. Very funny, Chuckles."
"So, where to next?"
"To my flat, I guess.... no." She looked out the cab window
miserably and sighed. "No way I'm letting Gemma see me like
this. Let's see... ah. St. David University, eh?"
"St. David's?"
John nodded. "Yeah, there's a few lads that might know
what's going on with this damned ridiculous mini-skirt and
super-heroics bullshit. And Chas?"
"Yeh?"
"Got a cig? 'Cos I _really_ need a smoke right about now."
- - -
The very fabric of Hell was still thundering with the sounds
of the gleeful and chaotic laughter of the First of the
Fallen.
He thought about going up there, to laugh in John's face and
such, but if there was one thing he learned it was that
getting too personally involved sometimes didn't pay.
Oh, but there was more than one way to skin a sailor, and
the First of the Fallen was in a mood to play.
Still snickering and walking unevenly as laughter shook
through him, he stood tall posed as dramatically as he could
while snickering and snorting.
"RELEASE... aheheheh.... HA!... RELEASE THE HOUNDS!"
Maybe John would die. Maybe not. Either way, he hoped
Constantine would put up a good show.
- - -
//And in the news today-//
-click-
//Look out, Sailor V!//
-click-
//And Green slices it a bit to the right-//
-click-
//Tenoh and Wrightson neck and neck in the final lap!//
-click-
//-will punish you!//
With another click of the remote, Gemma turned off the
television. "Nothing on the telly when you really need it,
eh Bill?"
The cat, busy eyeing the bandage on its forehead, took a
moment to look blankly at her and meowed. Then it stared
out the window to the balcony.
"Hm? What's that you're looking at, Bill?" Gemma followed
the cat's gaze to the open balcony, and nearly screamed in
surprise when she saw someone there.
The silhouette of a mysterious woman with long flowing hair
was visible, although barely, in the dark of night. There
was something familiar about her, thought Gemma. A flicker
of memory and emotions ran through her mind's eye,
frustratingly blurry and unclear.
The mystery woman seemed to notice Gemma's confusion and
turned away.
"No, wait!"
Gemma rushed to the balcony, but the stranger had already
leaped away and into the night.
A single name arose from the depths of her mind.
"Pluto."
- - -
Twilight turned to darkness and swept through the land,
catching Chas and John speeding through the edge of town on
eerily isolated streets.
"Hey, er, John?" asked Chas, an edgy quivering in his
voice.
"Eh?"
"Er, whassat behind us?"
John turned around and looked at the darkness behind them.
"S'nothing there, Chuckles."
"You sure, John? I can swear there's these red-like things
there," said Chas nervously.
"Red... what?"
John turned around again, and this time looked long and
hard. Finally he noticed them. Two... four... eight...
more... lots of pairs of small red dots bobbing up and down
in the darkness behind them and steadily growing larger.
Eyes. Glowing red eyes.
"Uh oh."
"Uh oh? Uh oh WHAT?" asked a steadily panicking Chas.
John rolled down the window slightly, then sniffed the air.
The taint of brimstone and excrement was in the wind.
"Oh. Shite."
"What?! What?!"
"Chas, don't slow down."
"Why?! What's going on?!"
"Hellhounds."
- e n d p a r t 2 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 3
how to play with shadows
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
A select crowd had gathered in a deep, dark cavern of Hell.
They all had one thing in common: they'd been screwed over
by John Constantine.
Heading the gathering was the First of the Fallen, seated
upon a throne of bones and looking over the impromptu
convention.
"Ladies, gentlemen, please!" he yelled. "The show's about
to start! Settle down, now, OR ELSE."
The room immediately fell silent.
"Now then, someone fix the damned reception! The image is
all fuzzy!"
A minor demon scrabbled up to the front room and quickly
fiddled with some runic symbols. A gigantic image at the
end of the room slowly sharpened into the image of a taxi
cab racing into the night, pursued by a pack of hellhounds.
And within the cab was the star of the show, John
Constantine.
A female John Constantine.
- - -
The small cab blazed through the streets of London, nearly
mowing down several pedestrians in the process.
"Chas, they're GAINING! Get this piece of shite moving a
little FASTER!"
"I'm going as fast as I can, dammit!" yelled Chas.
"It isn't enough!"
"If you've any suggestions, I'd LOVE to hear 'em now!"
"Shite, I dunno! Turn or something!"
"Turn? Right!"
They turned, right into a dead end. The alley was flanked
by tall buildings, and the end had an impossibly high
concrete wall blocking the way.
"REAL good going, Chas!"
"Shut up! It was your bloody idea!"
The car shook violently, jarring the two from their
argument. They turned around to see the large pack of
hellhounds standing quietly behind them, blocking the way
out.
One of them had a tire in its maw.
Chas' eyes bulged. "Oh shit! John, do something!"
"Like what?!"
"You've got them super hero powers now! Go out there and do
something super-heroic!"
"Are you mad?!"
"You got any other suggestions?!"
They glared at each other for a moment longer.
The car shook again. This time, the dog yanked off the rear
bumper.
"Shite. I hate it when you're right," grumbled John.
Very nervously, John got out of the car and faced the
hellhounds. They, in turn, seemed quite relaxed. Two of
them were busy chewing on the tire and fender.
"Right then, shoo!"
The dogs continued staring at her.
"Go on now, get! Move along! Shoo!"
One of the dogs took a step forward, sniffing the air.
"Hey! Back!" John raised the mysterious pen up in a
menacing gesture.
The lead dog blinked, looked at it, then with amazing speed
leaped up in the air and bit down on it, yanking it away from
John's grasp.
"Oh, this just keeps on getting better," snarled John.
In the back of her mind, she could feel those instincts,
that voice, all trying to come to the surface.
'Not now!' she yelled in her mind.
'Got any better ideas, wiseass?' the voice whispered.
She had to admit she didn't.
"I really hope I don't regret this," she muttered angrily to
herself.
And then she let the instincts run free.
"NEMESIS SHADOW WHIP!"
With a brief flash of light, an ebony coiled whip that
seemed to be made of pure shadows materialized in her hand.
Ah, a weapon. Now this was progress. But 'Shadow Whip'?
Ech. This was starting to get tacky again.
The downside of this was that it seemed to upset the dogs,
who were now looking far more menacing than before. They
were all growling and drooling, and the drool was melting
the pavement.
John rushed forward (and didn't stumble, despite the
high heels) and lashed out with her whip.
"Back! Back, ya mutts! Back!"
The pack of hounds retreated quickly, except for an
unfortunate pair that didn't move fast enough. The whip
sliced through them several times, reducing the dogs to
black lumps and splatters of blood.
Two down.
Lots to go.
No problem.
The whip was tossed away, disappearing into nothing as it
flew in the air. The dogs seemed confused, and a few took a
step forward to attack. They all hesitated when streaks of
darkness began flying by them and toward John from
everywhere.
She held her hands out to her sides, the dark energies
swirling into large spheres, each surrounding her
outstretched fists. With a fairly dramatic sweep of her
arms, John sent the dark spheres to the ground, where they
quickly formed two enormous pools of absolute black.
"NEMESIS ARMY OF DARKNESS!"
Oh no, thought John. That really sounded stupid.
Out of the darkness, dozens of inhumanoid shapes arose. Some
were skeletal, others were bestial, and all were absolute
in their darkness. They crawled out with a sickly and
slurping noise, spooking the hellhounds enough to make them
take a few more steps away.
'What the Hell are they?' John wondered. Instantly, the
part of his mind that wasn't his gave an answer.
Mindless creatures they were, formed from the primordial
soup of a dark dimension and given a form and purpose from
_her_ command.
His, apologized the voice in his head. It was so confusing
keeping track of genders.
Ah, thought John. Conjuring. This was familiar ground.
The hellhounds and the dark beings stared at each other
blankly for a moment, right before the dark creatures sprung
forward with surprising speed. The sounds of dogs yelping
and whining carried into the night as the unknown horrors
tore into them.
Sidekick Chas took this moment to peek out from the car and
stare at the scene in shock. "Jesus, John, what are they?"
John took this moment to pull out a cigarette and admire her
handiwork. "Dunno, but they're vicious little bastards,
eh?"
- - -
People running and screaming in terror was the sort of thing
Minako was used to seeing, primarily accompanied by some
sort of monster attacking.
She stopped one of the people running by and asked, "What's
everyone running from?"
"Devil beasts!" replied the man. "Running through the
streets! You'd best run too!"
Minako scratched her head, puzzled by it all. This was the
sort of cheesy line she thought she'd hear of only in old
monster movies.
She smiled and pulled out her transformation wand. Looked
like it was time for Sailor V to make her return to London.
- - -
*ARF*
-crack-
"That was nasty," grumbled Chas.
"No kidding. I gotta dig through that pile of bloody muts
and get that damned magic dildo back. Stay in the car,
s'no telling what those nasties might do."
John approached the bits and pieces of hellhound parts, very
carefully stepping around the odd monstrosities that she'd
summoned. For the most part, the many-shaped monstrosities
were just standing there. More than half had already
disappeared, gone back to wherever it was they were from.
Of the few left, some were merely standing there while
others seemed stuck in redundant actions, mostly pounding on
the remains of the hellhounds even though what was left was
rather pulpy.
At last, he made his way to a dismembered hellhound head,
its jaws clenched around the mysterious rod that had caused
John so much misery in the first place.
"This is disgusting."
John pried the animal's jaws open, keeping his nose as far
away from the rancid odor of dead hellhound as possible, and
pulled out the transformation rod.
"Now then, let's-"
"Hold it right there!"
- - -
The sight that met Sailor Venus was one of total carnage.
Bits and chunks of flesh were scattered across the dead end
alley. A half dozen obsidian, shambling, mindless
monstrosities were standing amongst the carnage, some still
tearing away at the carcasses.
And at the center of it all was a woman.
In a trenchcoat.
And a decidedly menacing sailor uniform of all black
underneath.
If she had any doubts as to what side the woman was on, they
were immediately put to rest when the stranger tore a dog's
head open and pulled out what appeared to be a
transformation rod of some sort.
"Hold it right there!"
The girl dropped the bloody severed dog's head and looked up
with irritation.
"Bloody hell, what NOW?"
"Slaughtering innocent pets with a demon horde is pretty
low! I'm Sailor Venus, and on behalf of pet owners
everywhere, I'll punish you!"
The woman's jaw dropped, the cigarette in her mouth almost
falling out. "You've gotta be kiddin' m-"
**WHAM**
- - -
Chas sighed as he watched the newcomer slam into John with a
lightning fast kick, sending John through the air and hard
into a brick wall.
This wasn't good.
John Constantine was almost notoriously miserable as a
brawler. The only reason John had fared well in the bar fight
was her newfound super strength and speed.
With a sigh, Chas settled back into the car and laid low.
This was no situation for a mere mortal like him. Besides,
the new girl didn't look like the type that killed, and John
was bound to win one sooner or later.
- - -
"Ow." John shook her head to clear the cobwebs, then glared
at the minions she'd summoned up earlier. "Well don't just
stand there! Gimmie a bloody hand!"
The creatures silently shifted their attention towards
Sailor Venus. Too late, John realized their intentions.
She scrambled to her feet in a panic. "No! Don't!"
The creatures sprang forward.
And with a dazzling array of kicks and punches, Sailor Venus
decimated the monsters.
"Oh. Wow."
And then she set her sights on John.
"VENUS CRESCENT BEAM!"
A massive beam of power slammed into John, sending her
through the the brick wall.
Again.
"Ow, dammit." John glared at the girl and felt ancient
emotions of her other half bubble to the surface.
Irritation. Anger.
Not coincidentally, that's how the rest of her felt too.
"Right then, that's it! NEMESIS SHADOW WAVE!"
With a sweep of her arm, John sent a dark wave of energy
flying towards Sailor Venus.
"Shite, do I have to bloody scream out every time I do
something?"
The Sailor Scout rolled under the attack, then zoomed
towards John and attacked with a series of punches and kicks
that John didn't dodge with skill.
The part of John's mind that knew what it was doing seemed
jarred by the assault, fading further into the subconscious
until it was barely audible.
John was on her own.
She retreated as quick as she could, springing up to a
nearby rooftop. John tried to repeat what she'd done
before, focusing on gathering energies from beyond. This
time, instead of spheres of pure obsidian energy surrounding
her fists, these seemed to be tainted with the occasional
red flicker.
"Bloody Hell I hope I do this right- ARMY OF DARKNESS!"
The spheres zoomed down to the ground, turning the pavement
it struck into large pools of darkness, though flickering
with some flames. Venus jumped back and watched the ground
carefully, and so did John.
- - -
M'ho, La-eeee, and Kha'Re were denizens of Hell.
They weren't especially nasty looking demons, being rather
simple in design. They were hairless, fat, with two small
horns, and armed with a pitchfork.
They weren't especially high ranking denizens of Hell.
Theirs was to go about sticking a pitchfork wherever it was
needed, the rough equivalent of Hell's janitors.
It was a mundane job, but someone had to do it.
At the moment, they were wishing they had a mundane duty to
do. Instead they were helping out the demon lord Blathoxi.
He was not a very pleasant demon to be around, especially
when he was in the sauna.
"My towel! Where is my towel! And my drink! And the
flesh for the fire!"
"C-coming, m-my lord!"
"Right away, my lord!"
"Flaming flesh, on its way!"
A funny thing happened right about then.
The trio of demons, and their lord, were unexpectedly, and
unwillingly, summoned and bound to task.
*POOF*
- - -
Sailor Venus watched the shadow-stained ground warily, ready
for any attack that might arise from it. Probably more of
those dark gross things, she thought.
"So, bringing in more youma to do your dirtywoEEEEWWW WHAT'S
THAT SMELL?!"
With a brief and tall flare of flame, four creatures stood
before her. Three of them were hairless, bald, and rather
fat. One was carrying a glass, another had a towel, and a
third had something blubbery that was ... on fire?
The fourth demon, however, was different. It was huge,
towering over the other three, easily three times the height
of Sailor Venus and four times as wide. Its face was
covered in blisters and boils, a few oozing. The demon was
also barely clothed, with only a small towel stolen from the
Hilton covering its nether regions.
All of these features were not the reason it stood out.
Blathoxi was, by duty, title, and talent, the Demon Lord of
Flatulence.
"What is the MEANING of this!" roared Blathoxi. His breath
drove the air quality down severely by the mere act of
talking.
"Aaaagh! The smell!" wailed Sailor Venus.
Up above, at a semi-safe distance, John sighed. "Oh
bugger."
Blathoxi blinked. He and the three other demons turned
around slowly but angrily.
"Madame," blubbered Blathoxi, "how DARE you summon me in
such an uncivilized mann... er... have we met?" The demon
lord peered at John, taking into account the cigarette, the
trenchcoat, and the tell-tale irritable mood. "Are you
perhaps related to John Consta-*AAACK*"
Blathoxi didn't have enough time to discern the identity of
his summoner. Sailor Venus had gotten her second wind
(actually, a fresh wind) and dove into the four demons with
a barrage of kicks and punches and keeping them off balance.
"Pfargh! You imbeciles!" roared Blathoxi, ruining the air
quality further with his bellows. "Dispose of her!"
"Wid wot? Foul language?" asked M'hoe. "We din't 'ave our
pitchforks wid us when we got zapped 'ere, ey?"
Blathoxi whapped M'hoe on the forehead. "Just stop the bi-"
"LOVE AND BEAUTY SHOCK!"
The four bickering demons looked up just in time to see a
gigantic glowing gold heart slam into them, utterly
destroying their physical shells and sending their essences
spiraling and tumbling back to...
- - -
*THUD* *THUD* *THUD*
"Aaaaow. Shit, 'at wos fuckin' oomiliating."
"No kiddin'. Wossat that zapped us? A big gold friggin
heart?"
"Ain'been so embarrassed in all my damned life, I say. A
big gold bloody 'art. Ooever 'eard of such bollocks?"
"Oi, where's Blathoxi?"
****TTTHHHUUUDDDPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT****
"Aow. Shite."
"Phew."
"Where's the air freshener?"
- - -
"An' I thought my stuff was silly," marveled John.
"What're you calling silly?!" yelled Sailor Venus.
"Love and Beauty Shock? C'mon, luv, innit just a bit daft?"
To say Sailor Venus was insulted would be entirely accurate.
"Why you... you... VENUS LOVE ME CHAIN!"
A chain of small golden hearts swirled around Sailor Venus,
which suddenly snaked out. John jumped away, narrowly
avoiding the mighty chains of love.
"That was not an improvement," quipped John. "Bugger, I'd
hate to see the hate chain."
"Oh yeah!?" yelled Sailor Venus. "At least I'm not...
not... a smoker!"
There was a moment of silence. Sailor Venus trembled with
rage. John blinked.
"Was that supposed to be an insult?"
"Right! That's it! CRESCENT BEAM SHO-"
At this moment, a certain dark green haired woman
stepped out of the shadows and tapped Sailor Venus on
the shoulder.
"Stop."
"YOW!"
- - -
There exists, in the life of every person, that ONE person
that knows everything.
These people always have the answers, and never, ever tell
how they know. They seem like the sort that should be able
to solve a lot of problems, yet don't do that much at all
(much to the annoyance of others).
Being rather mysterious and cryptic seemed to be the main
thing.
In one form or another, every person had someone like this
in their lives.
King Arthur had Merlin the Magician.
John Constantine had the Phantom Stranger, though he wished
he hadn't.
The Sailor Scouts had Sailor Pluto.
- - -
The blond sailor whirled around, half-scared and
half-annoyed.
"Pluto?! Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry."
Oh, great, thought John. Two of them. She didn't know who
the other one was either, but something about Sailor Pluto
irritated her to the core.
"Now that you're here," said Sailor Venus enthusiastically,
"help me beat this-"
Sailor Pluto shook her head. "We should leave. Now."
"What?! But.... but..."
Pluto stared into Venus' eyes seriously. "Trust me," she
said.
- - -
>From his rooftop perch, John watched the two ridiculously
dressed magical powered school-girl vigilantes chat between
themselves briefly, then jump away into the night, leaving
John once more alone, and peacefully so.
This day was just getting more and more... well... stupid.
"Oi! John!"
Ah. Chas. Almost forgot about Chas.
"Yeah? What?"
"You've just reached an all-time low, John! Got kicked
around by a school girl!"
John scowled. "Oi! That was a bloody super-powered school
girl!"
"Still got yer arse kicked! Now get down here, eh?"
"Be right down, Chas!"
"And fix my bloody car!"
John landed from the rooftop easily, then turned with an
irritated (it seemed to be irritated almost constantly now)
look at Chas.
"What d'ya mean fix your bloody car?"
Chas pointed to the bumper and tire that were once attached
to his cab, now strewn on the alley floor. "I'm not fixing
that, and you're the one with super-bloody-woman powers,
eh?"
"Aw, c'mon! I don't know shite about car repair!"
"You owe me for this, mate!"
John roled her eyes and stomped towards the wreckage, then
looked at the magic wand. "Don't suppose if I yell 'nemesis
car repair' you'd do anything, eh?"
Nothing happened.
"Didn't think so."
With much annoyance, John went to the back of Chas' cab and
pulled out the spare tire. It wasn't as if it was hard
work, with her newfound super strength.
It was just that John despised manual labor.
- - -
Meanwhile, in Hell...
The legions of Hell, while greatly amused, had reason to be
glum once more. The show was over.
For now.
"Okay! Show's over!" yelled the First of the Fallen.
"Back to torturing and maiming the damned! Go on, bugger
off!"
The demons, devils, and other denizens of hell gave a
collective groan and shuffled off back to the daily grind.
A few many-tentacled things had a few ideas about John that
they hoped to test out soon.
All in all, just another day in Hell.
- - -
A few minutes later, the not-quite-dynamic duo were once
more on the road, traveling not-quite-as-fast-as-before
through the dark London night.
"So, who's this we're seeing, then?" asked Chas.
"Hm?"
"At St. David's, eh?"
"Oh, that. A bunch of blokes who... how t'describe it...
they keep track of the odd buggery of the world in general.
Started in the 50's as a UFO watch sorta thing, but with a
few cuts in funding here and a few decades of membership
changes there, an'what you got now is a... er... cult, I
guess would be the term."
Chas scowled. "Wot, we're gonna go meet a bunch of cloaked
wankers that mope around chanting?"
"Nothing like that, Chas," said John. "Actually, something
worse."
They arrived at the campus of St. David's without any
further incident, which reminded John of the line 'it's
quiet, too quiet'. Nevertheless, it was, indeed, quiet,
which was a step up from being kicked around by school
girls.
Their drive eventually lead to a particularly archaic,
square, squat, yet rather solid looking building made of
stone. The design was rather medieval in appearance, and it
gave Chas a slightly foreboding feeling.
"Welcome to The Keep, Chas," said John. "Park it here, this
is our stop."
With the wind beginning to howl and lightning flashing in
the distance, John and Chas made their way to the large
double-doors of the structure and knocked.
Chas didn't like it, not one bit.
"What're we here for?"
"Answers, Chas. Answers."
"Worse, you said," grumbled Chas.
"Wot?"
"You said they was worse the buggers that mope about with
hoods and cloaks and chant odd shite."
John thought it over, taking a long drag from her cigarette.
"Yeah, they are."
The ancient doors creeked open, revealing darkness from
within. John arched an eyebrow while Chas tensed up and
made himself ready to punch someone.
Suddenly, a skinny, pale, bespeckled head popped out of the
darkness, staring at John with lust-filled eyes.
"Whoa! A babe!"
- - -
There was a secret cult at St. David's University. It was a
cult because very few people would have listened to them,
and even fewer would have joined them, unless they had a
hook.
It was a secret because, well, it was devoted to clannish
worship of magical girls.
No, really, they would have protested, it was a cult of
occultists who studied magic. They just happened to
specialize in magical girls.
It was, technically, occult, they reasoned.
Every Sunday night, they would meet at "The Keep," a
building whose age was possibly medieval or older,
resembling a small section of a bigger fortress. It once
was, but was now the archaeology college of the university.
This band of occultists, made of students, professors,
faculty, and staff, were known as 'The Keep Rats'. It was
meant to be a derogatory term, many years ago, but the Keep
Rats rather liked it. It struck them as something quite
nifty, almost like Pack Rats or Wolf Pack, or some other
impressive gathering of large animals.
Like any secret organization, they had a purpose, a goal, a
mission to strive for.
To sneak a peek up a Magical Girl's skirt.
No no, wait, to STUDY Magical Girls.
And other supernatural phenomenon.
Really.
- - -
"Whoa! A babe!"
John promptly grabbed the person by the throat and pulled
him out from the doorway.
"Look at me like that again and I'll rip yer balls out.
Understand?"
"Ack...ack...yes...righto."
"Now, is The Prof in?"
With John's hand still crushing his neck, the man weakly
nodded. John shoved the man back into the doorway, letting
him breathe at last.
"Lead us to'em," said John. "And turn on the bloody
lights."
"Thought you said these were worse'n those monk-types?"
asked Chas.
"They are," said John. "The monks would be far better
organized than this motly crew, and they'd be less likely to
pinch me arse."
- - -
Sailor Venus and Sailor Pluto sprang from rooftop to
rooftop across the city of London, Pluto looking as serious
as usual and Venus looking a bit irritated.
"Hey, Pluto, why didn't you help me trash that witch back
there?"
"There is something odd going on," said Pluto. "And that
woman is more than she appears to be. This situation, as a
whole, might be very dangerous."
"Why's that?" asked Venus.
"That woman you were fighting is really a man," said Pluto.
"His name is John Constantine, and his reputation is that of
a master magus with not entirely noble motivations. He has
betrayed angel and devil alike."
"Huh, sounds evil," said Minako, "like a bearded Spock."
Setsuna blinked, mulling that phrase over. Minako said the
strangest things sometimes...
"So why's he a she at the moment? Is this like those Sailor
Starlight guys... er... girls?" asked Venus.
"Something like that," said Setsuna. "John Constantine has
somehow taken the mantle of Sailor Nemesis."
"Nemesis?" asked Venus. Her eyes widened in surprise. "As
in the Black Moon?"
The Black Moon Crisis was something they'd dealt with some
time back. A thousand years into the future, a new kingdom
would be formed from the reborn survivors of the Silver
Millenium, beginning with the utopia city of Crystal Tokyo.
There were those that opposed this new reign, and they lead
a rebellion against the Queen. The rebels were defeated by
the guardians of Crystal Tokyo and fled from the Earth,
chosing instead to live on a far-away planet, which they
christened as Nemesis, the Dark Moon.
The rebels of the Dark Moon would return, lead by Prince
Demando and the mysterious being known as Wiseman. Their
strike against Crystal Tokyo was nearly successful. The day
was saved, however, when Minako and the other Senshi
traveled to the future and defeated them.
"There was another Nemesis before the Black Moon. Wiseman
and his followers named the Black Moon after it."
"But where's planet Nemesis, then?"
Pluto frowned. "It is no longer a planet, though parts of
it remain. Today it is commonly called the asteroid belt."
"It was destroyed? But... by who?"
"Sailor Nemesis."
- e n d p a r t 3 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 4
the sailor syndrome
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
Gemma Constantine Masters slept uneasily, with odd dreams
haunting her once more.
She found herself floating amongst the stars in the empty
void of space. In the distance she saw the sun, appearing
far smaller than she was accustomed to. Around that spun
the planets Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars.
Behind her, the gigantic Jupiter hovered, while all around
her floated the thousands of spinning asteroids that formed
the asteroid belt.
And then she heard it.
At first, they were whispers, barely audible in the void.
And then they grew louder.
And louder.
And then the screams of a million souls pierced her soul.
- - -
"Look, Dr. Tybalt, we really do need the funding for the
trip to Tokyo! It's vital for our research, really! Hello?
Hello? Oh, bugger. Gaffo won't like this, no..."
A pale, thin young man in a black trenchcoat frowned and
hung up the phone. "Okay, no trip to Japan. Damn."
Another pale, skinny lad burst from a dark corridor nearby
into the dimly lit study room. "Guys! Guys! You won't
believe this!"
"For frig's sake, Wonker, keep the volume down!"
"Mikey! Mate, y'won't believe it! There's a-"
*WHAP*
Mikey put away his mallet and sighed. "Take deep breaths,
Wonker. Deep breaths. Now what?"
Wonker pointed with quivering hand towards the darkened
corridor, where, a moment later, two figures appeared. One
was a rather nondescript middle-aged man. The second
figure, on the other hand....
Mikey's jaw dropped. "Holy shite! One'a THEM! Here! In
this building!"
"Keep on staring at me like that, arsehole, just keep on
staring," grumbled the woman with a tone of extreme menace.
"Oh, er, um, sorry!" blurted Mikey, clearly nervous. "Won't
you, er, have a seat, um, yes?"
"And give you bloody perverts a chance to look up my skirt?
I don't think so." She took a moment to blow cigarette
smoke in his face. "Just tell the Prof I'm in, eh?"
Mikey frowned. "The Prof? He's out, sorry."
The woman glared at Wonker, the sort of glare a woman gives
a man that promises further violence should any further
silly buggery be attempted.
"Thought you said he was in!" she snarled.
Wonker cringed. "Thought'e was! I swear!"
"The Prof's out, but his assistant is in," offered Mikey
helpfully.
"His assistant?" asked the woman. "Not Gaffo."
"Yeah, Gaffo."
The woman scowled. "Great, the freakin' pervert. He'll
have to do. Lead the way, Wonker."
"Righto! Hope you don't mind me askin', miss, but what's
yer name? Er, codename? Whatever you call yourself?" asked
Wonker nervously.
"Constantine. John Constantine."
Wonker paused for a moment. "John Constantine? That's not
a girl's name," he muttered. "Not girlish atall, no..."
Realization seemed to dawn on him at last. Wonker's eyes
bulged, staring at John in a way that was, fortunately, not
lustful, but instead one of tremendous shock. John, on the
other hand, did not look amused.
"NO FRIGGIN WAY! YOU'RE-"
*WHAP*
"Stop gawking and start walking, arsehole," growled John.
"Owww... sorry, righto."
"See, Chas?" said John to her companion. "Told you they was
worse."
- - -
John was right, thought Chas. Being with a building full of
solemn, mysterious, chanting monks would've been better.
With the monks, he might've felt a little out of place, and
at the very worst, a little scared. With this sorry lot he
felt extremely embarrassed, and more than a little annoyed.
Unknown to Chas, John was feeling exactly the same way.
"C-Constantine?! That's YOU?!"
At the moment, the two were in a private office, cluttered
with books and yet again dimly lit. Seated behind a messy
desk was yet another scrawny pale figure. They seemed to
all look alike to Chas.
"Yes, Gaffo. Me John. John Constantine. Okay? Cigarette.
Trenchcoat. Treats you like shit. Who else do you know
that's like this?"
"It is you," said Gaffo in awe. "Bloody hell, John, but
you're sexy! ACK!"
"Say that again and I hit you so hard your bloody
ancestors'll be spinning in their graves! GOT IT?!"
"ACK... yes... righto... can't.... breathe..."
"Right then." John released Gaffo's throat and leaned back
in her chair, closing her trenchcoat around her. "Now, I
know you nerdy sods are big on this sort of thing, so I need
some answers from you lads."
"Um, anything we can do to help, John."
"I need to know who's who, what's what, and why the HELL I'M
LIKE THIS!" She took a moment to calm down, take a deep
breath, then continued. "In other words, lemme see your
files and tell me what you know."
"Oh, right then, this way." Gaffo lead them through more
hallways, the lights on this time much to John's relief,
until they arrived upon a small wooden doorway with a lock
on it. Gaffo pulled out a silver key and unlocked the door,
and motioned for them to enter.
What greeted John and Chas within was... disturbing. Not
horrific, not terribly shocking, but still, disturbing.
>From wall to wall, pictures of various teen-aged girls in
short skirts and sailor uniform-esque tops were plastered.
Quite a few of them managed to catch a little 'peek' at the
fabric underneath their dresses.
"Jeez," muttered Chas.
"Perverts," marveled John as he stared at the walls.
"Bloody pedophiles, you sick bloody bastards."
"I-it's not what it seems, really!" insisted Gaffo. "These
girls, all these girls, are part of what seems to be some
sort of cabal. Why they're all so young, we don't know, but
they are all definitely associated with each other."
"Uh huh," replied John, looking quite skeptical.
"Look here," said Gaffo, opening a file cabinet. "They
started up a few years ago with this one particular girl
known as Sailor V. Have a look, eh?"
John opened the file, then raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Oi, John, innit the girl that kicked your arse?" asked
Chas.
"Shattup, Chuckles."
"You met Sailor Venus?" asked Gaffo.
"Yeah, ran into her 'bout an hour ago," said John.
"Ridiculous little girl."
"Sailor Venus is BACK in London?! Oh, bugger. We've got
to send out our people, maybe even get an interview... oh
my..."
"Oi! Gaffo! Snap out of it!"
"Oh, sorry. Right then, what you've got there is the very
first of the 'Sailor Scouts' that appeared in public. She
went by the name of Sailor V for a while, then changed it to
Venus a bit later."
"I saw another girl with'er," said John. "Looked a bit
older, long green hair, matron-like."
Gaffo gasped. "Sailor Pluto's here too?! Holy mother'a
God... she's the most elusive one of'em all! Hold on a
moment, John, I really gotta call the lads."
Gaffo went to a nearby phone and began talking excitedly
while John looked through the various photographs.
"Hallo? Roddy? S'me, Gaffo. Yes, I know what time it is.
This is important! ... I'll forget you said that."
All in all, there seemed to be fifteen people photographed.
Twelve were teen-aged girls, two were just children, and one
person wasn a boy, probably of college age, in a tuxedo,
top hat, mask and cloak.
The girl with long green hair once again caught John's eye,
and she felt hatred bubble in the back of her mind.
"Sailor Pluto, eh?" mused John.
"Listen up, you stupid arsehole, SAILOR PLUTO IS IN LONDON!
Yes, you heard me right! She's here! And she's with Sailor
Venus! Get your arse out of bed and get the cameras
rolling, ey? No, Davey's not available, he's over in Norway
looking into the cult of the Norns. Whaddayamean yer car's
broke?! Get Birdy t'give ya a lift! JUST DO IT!"
"What is it," John asked the image of Sailor Pluto. "Just
what is it about you that I don't like?"
"Sorry about that, John," said Gaffo, hanging up the phone.
"It's just that it's terribly rare for us to have the
opportunity to see them LIVE and IN PERSON, you know? We
managed to get the university to fund a research trip to
Tokyo last year. However, after seeing the bill we'd run up
for sake, sushi, okonomiyaki, and the visits to the hot
springs, the university had become far more stingy."
"Heh, I'll bet."
"Anyway, as you can see, there's quite a few of them. The
one thing they all have in common... well... except in the
case of the Tuxedo fellow... is that they're all associated
with solar entities. One Sailor for each Planet, y'see,
except Earth. And then there's the three Sailor Starlights,
who don't really seem associated with any exacty
astronomical body. Odd, those."
"Who's the three Starlights? The dominatrix trio in black
here?" asked John, pointing to three not-very-clad girls,
each wearing black hip boots, short shorts, and fairly
revealing tops.
"Yes, those are them," said Gaffo.
"Rather androgynous looking, eh?"
Gaffo blinked. "Say... you may be on to something... until
you, we had no reason to think any of the Sailor Scouts were
boys. If it is possible, then the Sailor Starlights are
definitely candidates. Hmm."
John frowned. "Uh-huh. Right, then. Who's the one in the
tuxedo then?"
"Him? Tuxedo Mask is what he's known as. Good combatant,
fairly intelligent, and seems to be romantically linked with
Sailor Moon."
"Ah, all this AND romantic drama," said John dryly. "Why
the link with planets? And why the silly bleedin' 'Sailor'
title?"
"Well... the sailor bit... er... we aren't entirely sure on
that. There's several puzzling questions in regards to
that. For some odd reason, the majority of them have
re-emerged in Japan."
"Yeah, so?" asked John.
"Well, you see, the clothing that they wear is rather
identical to the clothing worn by Japanese schoolgirls known
as a 'sailor fuku', you see."
"Ah, right."
"But it still puzzles us why an ancient race of guardians
would choose such a mode of dress. Not that we're
complaining, mind you."
"Perhaps they want their enemies to underestimate them.
Badly. Lord knows I already do," said John sarcastically.
"Underestimated'em enough to get your arse kicked," mumbled
Chas, which got him a quick elbow from John.
Gaffo blinked. "Oh. Hm. Now that IS an idea. Anyway, as
to their origins, there is an old legend found in a handful
of ancient texts referring to a kingdom of the moon that is
destined one day to rise again. Each of the Sailor Scouts,
by legend, were from the kingdom of said planet. It's kind
of like the Arthurian legend, except that the entire round
table comes back."
"Indeed." John shook her head, amused and annoyed at it
all. "What a silly bunch," he muttered. "Love Me Chain
indeed."
"Oh, actually, they all have a rather nasty habit of having
silly attack names," said Gaffo. He pulled out another
folder, flipped a few pages, then smiled. "Ah, here we
are. Our associates in Japan have managed to get quite a
few names of their attacks, and we must confess we find them
very damned silly. For example, there's the Love Me
Chain..."
"Been there, done that," grumbled John.
"Then the Mercury Aqua Rhapsody, Sparkling Wide Pressure,
Jupiter Oak Evolution..."
"Wot's that do?" asked John. "Give a man a woody?"
"... the Moon Tiara Action, the Starlight Honeymoon Therapy
Kiss, the Mercury Bubble Blast..."
"These are certified?" asked John doubtfully.
"Oh, yes, yes. In fact, the one attack that really stands
out, it was voted most obscene in the club poll, was 'Star
Gentle Uterus'."
John blinked. "Star Gentle Uterus?"
Gaffo nodded.
Chas looked a bit ill.
"I don't think I wanna know," said John. "What next? Full
Mooning? Star Irregular Bowels? Star Penile Spray?"
"Er, mercifully, the Star Gentle Uterus is about as bad as
it gets," said Gaffo.
John and Chas took seats, John flipping through the file in
his hand and Chas feeling terribly embarrassed to look
anywhere, for risk of being accused of pedophelic
tendencies.
"Right then," said John. "Take it from the top. Explain to
me what this silly bunch of sods is all about."
Gaffo ahemed and straightened out his shirt, trying to look
somewhat scholarly. "Well, their origins, as I said before,
seem to be told in some rather ancient tomes found buried in
ancient Greek ruins around the region of Lesbos. There are
legends of a kingdom on the moon in other cultures as well,
particularly Japan, but the Greek texts predate those
legends by quite a bit. It tells of a kingdom whose capital
was based on the moon, and whose reach stretched across the
planets. Called themselves the Silver Millenium. At first
it was generally assumed that this was some sort of legend
or myth, but then there was the discovery of this."
Gaffo tossed a thin folder to John, who opened it up and
viewed a black and white picture of a somewhat dilapidated
archway being held by crane over the ocean.
"See that?" asked Gaffo. "That archway, it was found in the
Atlantic ocean, some two hundred miles north of the
antarctic and several miles deep."
"What's so special about it?"
"Y'see, first of all it's got inscriptions in an unknown
language. BUT it does have symbols indicating the solar
system as well as unknown markings also used in the Silver
Millenium document in Greece. See picture number two,
yeah?"
John flipped to picture two. "Um-hm."
"And second, that archway was made out of moon rock."
John arched an eyebrow and nodded. "Lemme guess, a coverup
by the United Nations or something?"
"Exactly, John! A conspiracy! They don't think the world's
ready for this sort of thing, y'know?"
"Could be that it was just carved outta some meteorite,
y'know?" suggested John.
"Could be, yeah, but it's still a bit peculiar. Now then,
the Silver Millenium document tells of a time when the
royal houses of the kingdom shall be reborn when the stars
are right."
"When the stars are right? You make'em sound like Cthulhu,
Gaffo."
"No, Great Cthulhu doesn't look nearly as good in a fuku."
"Now there's some great friggin mental imagery."
"Um, where was I?" asked Gaffo.
"Stars were right, reborn, et-cetera."
"Oh, right then. The stars happened to be right a couple of
years ago, during the emergence of Sailor V, later to be
known as Sailor Venus. Soon after, Sailor Moon appeared-"
"Who?"
"The blond one with the two long ponytails."
"Ah, right."
"Anyway, with Sailor Moon appeared several others. Tuxedo
Mask, Sailor Mercury, Sailor Mars, Sailor Jupiter-"
"Saturn, Your Anus, right, get on with it!"
"Oh, um, righto. Well, that pretty much covers the broad
view, pardon the pun."
John and Chas looked at him blankly.
"Er, right, nevermind," mumbled Gaffo. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, you haven't answered the big question. Why am I
currently a Sailor Girl?"
"Oh, er, well, that, um..." Gaffo scratched his head.
"Only reason I can think of is that you might be the
reincarnation of one of them. Sorry, that's the best answer
I can give you. Anyway, you're welcome to look through our
files as you like. If you'll excuse me, I need to join the
search party for Sailor Pluto."
With a grunt and a nod, John dismissed Gaffo and began
flipping through the Sailor Venus file. Idly, he flipped
through picture after picture, then slowed down and stared
at one. Then he flipped back and looked at them again.
He paused at one photo, then glared at it with
astonishment.
"THE CAT!"
"Cat?" asked Chas.
"The cat in this pic!" yelled John, yanking a photograph out
and shoving it in Chas' face. Her finger pointed at a small
white cat which was being carried by Sailor Venus. "That
stupid cat was on my doorstep this morning! I bet the
little bastard dumped that wand there! C'mon, Chas, we've
got a cat to maim."
Chas scowled. "Shit, great, running about London past
midnight looking for a cat. Great way to spend it, right."
"Wait, it's past midnight?" asked John. "Oh, bugger me, I
haven't checked up on Gemma! She'll be wondering where I'm
at. Hold on, I'd better give'er a ring."
"John, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Y'think she'll recognize Auntie John over the phone?"
John scowled yet again. "Oh. Yeah. Shite. Oi, Chas,
give'er a ring for me, eh?"
"Me?"
"Yeah, just say I'm pissed drunk or something and won't make
it home tonight."
- - -
*riiiiing*riiiing*riiii-
"Hello?"
//Allo Gemma, s'me, Chas.//
"Oh, *yawn* hi Uncle Chas."
//Oh, did I wake you up? Sorry'bout that, luv.//
"No, I wasn't sleeping. Just tired. What's up?"
//I was just calling for yer uncle John. Y'see, he got
himself pissed drunk and stranded at my place, so he won't
be coming in. He just wanted me to check if everything's
fine with you.//
"No problems here, Uncle Chas."
//Oh, good.//
"Hey, d'you know if Uncle John's got a problem with cats?"
//Don't think so. Why?//
"Well... maybe I shouldn't have, but I picked up a stray cat
today. I hoped Uncle John wouldn't mind."
//A cat, eh? I don't- er, hold on, Gemma.//
Gemma blinked as she heard some woman in the background
yelling something at Chas.
//Say, what kind of cat is it?//
"It's a small white one."
//Does it have a funny mark on its head?//
"It had a cut there, actually. So I put a bandage onnit.
If there was a mark there, It's covered up right now. Why'd
you ask?"
//Oh... er... s'just that me daughter lost her cat
recently.//
"Geraldine had a cat?"
//Er, yeah, just got it recently. Anyway, gotta go, the
missus is nagging.//
"Give Gerry my love, eh?"
//Right. Be seeing you.//
-click-
- - -
"THE CAT'S IN MY FLAT! I don't believe this! Chas! Bring
me home! Now!"
Chas scowled. "Rephrase that."
John stared at Chas for a moment, not understanding, then
gave him a swift kick in the shin. "You bloody know what I
mean, arsehole. Let's go!"
The duo briskly walked through the halls, pausing only a
moment when they ran into a pack of the 'wanker occultists'
as John called them. One of them dove to his knees in front
of John with a camera.
It was a clear attempt to get the treasured 'Under The
Skirt' photo.
"Bloody Hell!" snarled John. "HELL'S FOOT UP YER SCROTE!"
---WHAM---
"AAaaaaaoooooow! Scriv! Jamie! 'Elp! She friggin cracked
me nuts!"
"Bloody perverts!" spat John. She glared them both for a
moment, then turned away.
And then she changed her mind.
"HELL'S BOOT UP THE ARSE!"
---WHUD---
"AAAAAAAAAOW!"
"HELL'S HEADBUTT!"
---WHAM---
"Soddin' amazing," said Chas. "John Constantine finally
wins a fist fight."
"Bound t'happen sooner or later," said John. "Cripes, I
think this whole Sailor shite is getting to me. I'm
startin' to yell stupid catch phrases like they do. C'mon,
Chas. I've had enough of the bloody geek squad."
John and Chas strolled away, leaving the three fanboy
occultists writing on the floor.
"Tell me Tommy," whimpered Jamie. "Tell me ye at least got
the pic?"
"HELL'S CAMERA APOCALYPSE!"
--BLAM--
- - -
The Not-So-Dynamic-Duo was once again on the road, with Chas
behind the wheel as usual. John, on the other hand, had
decided to stretch out in the back. The long day had
finally taken its toll, dragging John into the realm of
dreams.
But even that would not be entirely restful.
John found himself to be a he once more, floating in an
endless void.
"Ah, what's this then? Limbo?"
The darkness slowly lit with the twinkling of distant stars,
then a sphere of light that could only be the sun.
"A 2001 flashback. How nice."
Soon, John found himself amongst a thick area of asteroids.
The asteroid belt, he guessed. He'd never had any dreams of
galactic proportions before and wondered where this one was
headed.
In the distance, he saw a shape, a figure, a girl floating
deep within the asteroids, with ebony wings folded around
her, as if to shield herself from the world. Her face was
turned away from him, staring out into space. John floated
to the girl, seeing now that she wore the same manner of
dress that he'd been wearing.
Him in his past life, perhaps? Curiosity spurring him on,
he moved closer to the girl, until at last he was floating
before her.
And then, slowly, she faced him.
John lost his voice, able to only stare at her.
At last, reaching out a hand to caress her face, he spoke
softly.
"Oh no... Gemma... not you."
- e n d p a r t 4 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 5
jemma's story
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
The cat stared up at the moon longingly, trying to remember
what it was about that thing in the sky that nagged him. On
the edge of his mind, visions of royal palaces and sailor
fukus danced in his head.
Surely, these were not normal cat things.
Sitting next to him on the balcony was the girl, Gemma. She
was also feeling odd, a sort of odd that was hard to
describe. Gemma felt odd, hollow, as if there was a part of
her that was missing. The odd dreams she'd been having
lately certainly didn't help.
She affectionately scratched the cat behind the
ears, eliciting a pleasant purr from the cat.
"Couldn't sleep either, Bill?"
The cat meowed and looked at her briefly, then slinked back
into the house. It suspected there was a mouse somewhere,
and it was feeling a little bloody-minded at the moment.
"Hm. Right."
Idly, Gemma wondered what Uncle John was up to.
- - -
It started out a dream, but it was now a nightmare.
Everything that had been happening so far, all the miserable
business about the Silver Millenium scouts and running about
in a sailor fuku, it all made sense now.
One of John's greatest fears was coming true.
"Oh no... Gemma... not you."
He stared at her still, not believing, not wanting to
believe his niece had fallen victim to the same curse that
claimed a Constantine in every generation.
The curse of magic.
Denial came easy, and fast.
"No... no... you're not Gemma. Not my Gemma."
"Uncle John-"
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
"I... I am a part of Gemma," said the girl. "I've always
been a part of her, just behind her waking thoughts and on
the fringes of her dreams. She and I are one and the same,
though your interference has changed that."
"Yeah? Good! 'Coz Gemma doesn't need this shite right
now!"
She winced, stung by his words. "Uncle John, please..."
John turned his back to her. "I'm not your bloody uncle.
You're just a ghost from the past who should've gone to
sleep thousands of years ago."
"I was the part of her that explored the world around her.
I was the part of her that always felt there was something
more out there in the world than what our little flat had to
offer. I've always been here."
John, back still turned, said nothing. An uncomfortable
moment of silence passed between them.
"I remember the times you visited me, John," said the girl
softly. "You saved me from that boring house and that living
statue that called itself my father. Every time, you'd come
back with fantastic stories and strange little trinkets from
all over the world."
She reached out and held his shoulder. John didn't respond,
not flinching but not turning her way either.
"I remember all the times I'd have things troubling me that
I didn't want to trouble mom with. I could always go to
you. You didn't yell at me, you always set me straight."
John sighed.
"You said you'd always be there for me, Uncle John, and you
always have been. Don't break that promise now. Please?"
He turned around at last, looking solemn and sad. "So, I
suppose you'll be wanting me to hand over that magic wand to
you, eh?"
Gemma nodded.
John turned away once more. "I swore I'd be the last
Constantine tainted by magic, and dammit, I will be. I'm
sorry, Gemma, but it's for your own good."
"You don't understand, Uncle John," said Gemma. "There's
something we have to do, unfinished business."
"You have no idea what trouble magic'll bring to you," said
John bitterly.
"I know, all too well."
Gemma glided towards John, who still had his back to her.
She wrapped her arms around him and they began to fade away.
"Hey! What's this?!" yelled John.
"You don't understand," said Gemma as they faded into
nothing, "but I can make you understand."
The image of deep space disappered, replaced by a shining
city on the horizon.
"This," said Gemma, "was the Silver City, capitol of the
Silver Millenium, more than twenty-five thousand years
ago..."
- - -
Sailor Venus yelled in surprise, "SHE WHAT?!"
"She destroyed Nemesis," said Pluto.
"That... but... she's that powerful?" asked Venus.
"Until the day she did, I didn't think so."
"The power to destroy a planet in the hands of that man,"
murmured Venus. "Pluto, I still think it was a bad idea to
leave behind that Constantine guy. If he's got the power
to-"
"Constantine doesn't have the full power of Sailor Nemesis,
nor should he," said Pluto. "He is not the true Sailor
Nemesis."
"Then who is?" asked Venus.
The two leaped down from the rooftops they'd been jumping
across, landing in the dark shadows of a grove of trees.
Pluto transformed into her civilian guise as Setsuna Meiou,
and Venus followed suit, transforming into Minako Aino.
"She is," said Setsuna, pointing to a small, two story loft.
On the second floor, leaning out from the window, a
short-haird girl was gazing out at the stars longingly.
"Who's she?"
"Gemma Constantine Masters.."
"Constantine?"
"She is also John Constantine's niece."
The two observed the girl for a time, Setsuna as serene as
usual and Minako... not quite so.
"So... why are we back here?" asked Minako.
"I have a feeling it's the right thing to do."
"You have a FEELING?"
"This entire scenario is hardly logical," said Setsuna. "It
stands to reason we might as well go with the flow."
This, thought Minako, was not the usual Setsuna. Something
about this entire situation, therefore, must be skewered.
"So, who is this Sailor Nemesis and why don't I remember
her?"
"Sailor Nemesis was... before your time," replied Setsuna.
"Early in the history of the Silver Millenium, as worlds
were beginning to be colonized, the planet Nemesis was
claimed by the kingdom. Unlike the other planets, Nemesis
was not used for colonization, but to hold rebels,
criminals, and others that had caused much turmoil in our
society. "
"Sounds like Australia," said Minako.
Setsuna paused, thinking it over. "I suppose so. With
time, everything changes, and after several hundred years
Nemesis had changed as well. It had made itself into a
self-sustaining colony, with its own ruling family and
government. It still held alliegence to our queen, though,
and many of its people hoped to strengthen the government
and economy of Nemesis enough so that it would be able to
stand proud with its sister planets.
"However, there was one thing it lacked. From all the other
planets a child was born which was destined to serve as
guardian of her planet and hold a position at the court of
the queen. This child would be selected by divine powers,
and one would know the child was chosen when a mark upon
their forehead would mysteriously appear and disappear.
"Nemesis had no such representative. It was felt that this
was a sign from God that their world was not yet worthy. A
generation before the fall of the Silver Millenium, that
would change. The only daugher of the ruling house of
Nemesis, Jemma Konstyntin, was discovered to have the mark.
"We of the queen's court were uneasy with this development,"
said Setsuna. "For the house of Konstyntin practiced in
dark magics, not forbidden but not smiled upon either. To
have one of their kind serve close to the queen was a tricky
political situation."
"Dark magic? What was so bad about it?" asked Minako.
"It is the same magic that, years later, Queen Beryl would
use to bring the Silver Millenium to an end."
Minako, eyes wide in surprise, nodded. "Oh. Okay. That
sounds bad, yeah."
"I still don't understand why she was chosen," said Setsuna.
"Jemma was a very fragile personality, with low self esteem,
bouts of depression, and an acute case of paranoia. It was
hoped that her time as a guardian would strengthen her.
Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect..."
- - -
The assembled guardians of the queen and planets looked at
the figure standing before them, unsure what to make of her.
Some looked at her neutrally, like Sailor Pluto had, while
others including Sailor Venus, the leader of the Sailor
Senshi, clearly were uncomfortable with her.
After being greeted by the queen, Pluto was instructed to be
her guide and show her the whos, whats, wheres, and whys of
the capitol city.
Nemesis wasn't quite what Pluto had expected. With the
reputation that the planet of Nemesis had, she thought
Sailor Nemesis would be quite a strong personality. She was
entirely the opposite, a soft-spoken, timid girl that barely
seemed certain of herself at times.
The two strode down the endless corridors of the palace
silently, with Nemesis too nervous to say anything and Pluto
not having anything in particular to say.
"They... don't like me," said Sailor Nemesis quietly.
This was true, though Pluto wished it were not. Despite her
advice, some of the other Sailor Senshi had shown their
disapproval of the girl, looking at her disdainfully as she
stood before the queen.
"They... are concerned about your family's use of dark
magics," said Pluto. "A great many of those who use it go
mad, violently so, or become criminally insane."
Jemma scowled, though only slightly. "I see. I was told
they'd have this prejudice."
"Dark magic is a dangerous thing," said Pluto. "It is said
that the dead are best left alone, and the beings from other
worlds are not to be trusted, yet dark magic does both."
Nemesis stopped walking, the scowl on her face increasing.
"I did not mean to offend you," said Pluto. "I only wished
to explain our concern."
"Dark magic is like any other weapon," said Nemesis with
conviction. "It's not good, it's not evil, it's a tool to
be used wisely."
- - -
"You see, they were all against me," said Gemma bitterly as
she and John watched her former self walk down the hallway
with Sailor Pluto.
"Certainly wasn't the best of welcomes, no," admitted John.
"People are stupid that way," said Gemma. "What they can't
understand, manipulate, or control, they hate. Oh, they
tried and pretended that all was well in the kingdom, but
-I- heard their snickers and sneers, -I- saw how they were
looking at me like I was some bloody roach, everyone but the
Queen."
This, thought John, was not good. Gemma, in her past life,
was clearly paranoid.
"What was I to do in these circumstances?" asked Gemma.
"What could I do? I had little friends before, and now I
wsa stuck on another world where everyone hated me. All I
had left was my duty and my magic. I atttended to my duties
far better than anyone had expected, and my aptitude in
magic grew in leaps and bouds as well.
"Of course, there were those that hated me enough to do
something drastic, something foolish. And of course," she
said bitterly, "they blamed this on me."
- - -
The city streets of Silver City were abnormally empty, noted
Jemma, as she took her daily walk. Something was wrong,
very wrong. As she entered an alley between two tall
buildings, her suspicions were confirmed.
"You! Jemma Konstyntin!"
She turned around nervously, nearly dropping the books she
was carrying. Behind her, the street was filled with an
angry mob weilding pick-axes and other weapons. She turned
to run away, only to find the other end blocked by a mob as
well.
"Leave me alone," she said quietly.
"Dark magic's got no place in the moon kingdom! We'll put
an end to you poisoning the Queen's ear with your advice!"
So.
This was how it was going to be.
"NEMESIS POWER!"
The crowd was momentarily startled as her transformation
sequence took place, with dark shadows swirling around her,
civilian clothing replaced by the all-ebony uniform of
Sailor Nemesis.
The mobs charged her, swords raised high and with battle
yells.
"All I ever wanted was to be left alone," whispered Sailor
Nemesis. "NEMESIS SHADOW FLIGHT!"
Two dark wings formed, made of dark shadows and demonic in
form. They unfolded, stretching out surpisingly wide, then
flapped once. The gust of wind sent the crowd stumbling
back, a few even running in fear. As Sailor Nemesis
ascended above them, dark blasts of energy shot forth and
struck the building's sides. The debris that fell blocked
any route of escape the mob had.
"I hate you! I HATE YOU ALL! NEMESIS ARMY OF DARKNESS!"
Two more spheres of darkness shot forth from her hands, this
time striking the street. Two large pools of darkness
formed, engulfing the entire alleyway. The crowd was in a
panic now, screaming and clawing at the debris that blocked
their escape.
>From the darkness, _things_ emerged. Their shape and size
varried greatly, but they were all alien and grotesque in
shape, and they were all as dark as the night sky.
As the monstrosities began to attack the citizens, Sailor
Nemesis turned away from them. She covered her hands with
her ears, not wanting to hear the screams when it began.
They had it coming. They deserved it.
"That's enough," said a voice nearby.
Nemesis whirled around to see Sailor Pluto standing atop one
of the alleyway buildings, only a short jump away from her.
"They attacked me first!"
"They're only people," said Sailor Pluto.
"No! I'm sick of it, do you hear me! I'm sick of everyone
looking down on me!"
"It's your duty as a guardian of the Silver Millenium to
protect her people, no matter what."
Sailor Nemesis looked down at the screaming crowds below.
None of them were being killed by her creatures, she had
enough control to make sure that didn't happen. But some
of them would be getting maimed in a moment or two.
"Jemma," said Pluto softly. "Please."
"Fine," spat Nemesis. "FINE! Take THEIR side!" With a
sweep of her arm, the ebony monstrosities disintegrated into
ashes and disappeared with the passing breeze. Before Pluto
could say anything else, Nemesis flew off into the night.
- - -
"There was no way for Jemma to avoid a reprimand after that
incident," said Setsuna. "It was a bad situation for all.
If Jemma was punished, this would push her further into her
paranoia. It would also alienate her from the Queen, who
seemed to be the only person she wasn't hostile to yet. But
if she was not punished, many across the kingdom would see
that as a sure sign the Queen was being corrupted."
"Wow, talk about being caught on a fork between hard roads,"
said Minako.
"Anyway," continued Setsuna, trying as best she could not to
get sidetracked by Minako's mangling of old sayings, "Jemma
was sent back to Nemesis for a time. Officially, she was
reprimanded and banned from the Moon. Privately, the Queen
tried to assure Jemma that this was not a personal slight,
that the people needed time to accept her and she needed to
be out of sight for a while.
"Of course," said Pluto, shaking her head sadly, "Jemma
didn't see it that way. She promised she'd uphold her
duties as guardian of Nemesis and the Silver Millenium, but
it was also clear that she would do them without our help."
"For months, she stayed in seclusion, out in the vast
undeveloped and barren plains of planet Nemesis."
- - -
"It was clear they didn't want me," said Gemma. "That was
fine by me. I didn't need them either. But when I came
home, everyone was mad at me. Mother, father, it seemed
like the whole bloody planet was blaming me..."
Jemma closed her eyes and clenched her fists.
"I couldn't take it anymore," she said bitterly. "So I went
off to the barren plains of Nemesis. I needed time to clear
my mind, to get away from the pressure, and I used that time
to improve the skills I had as well. I guess I used the
craft as a diversion. I didn't want to think about anything
else.
"Months passed in which I worked hard to master the dark
magics. Eventually, I had begun to look into the use of
spirits to foretell the future. At first I was able to get
simple things predicted, like the draw of a card. But after
a week, I could accurately get the week's weather, and after
a month the spirits whispered to me the events of three
thousand years down the line.
"They showed me visions of Crystal Tokyo, and the new
kingdom which would be born of the long dead ashes of the
Silver Millenium. One thing was missing, however. There
was no Nemesis.
"And then the spirits told me why. Sort of."
- - -
"Spirits, come forth."
Alone, in a dimly lit cave, Jemma warily watched as the
spirits swirled within the circle of binding she had drawn
on the floor, listening as they whispered to her the things
that only they could see.
Jemma's attempts at seeing into the future were growing
stronger every day. Today, she hoped to be able to see the
future of Nemesis and all the glory it may achieve.
However, there was something... something different about
the spirits today.
Who summons me?
Jemma frowned. Only one spirit. She must've drawn in a
fairly powerful one, then, if it took up the entire circle
and allowed no other in.
"I am called Sailor Nemesis. I am the guardian of Nemesis,
servant of Queen Serenity. What manner of spirit are you?"
You may call me... Wiseman.
"Show me Nemesis, her future, what will become of her
people," she said, waving a hand across the border of the
circle. The spirits swirled and swayed, then formed an
image...
Rocks. Many rocks.
"What is this?"
The future, mistress.
"I need the future of NEMESIS! What is this?"
This is Nemesis.
"I don't understand..."
Nemesis will be no more, merely bits of rocks floating
endlessly in space.
"No..."
The scenery changed, to show the Moon Palace in ruins, empty
and abandoned.
The Silver Millenium will be no more.
"This cannot be... there must be a way to avoid this fate!"
There is.
- - -
"And so Sailor Nemesis was out of the public eye for a
while, and all became peaceful once more in the Silver
Millenium," said Pluto. "However, that was not to last.
Sailor Nemesis would return one last time to the Moon
Palace.
"It would not be a pleasant visit."
- - -
Despite her current status as banned from the Moon, Jemma
returned to the Moon Palace. Sightings of her walking
through the corridors were already causing a stir amongst
the staff and servants.
It was what was about to happen next that would cause the
most controversy, as Nemesis entered Pluto's quarters, not
even bothering to knock.
That was fine, though. Pluto knew she was coming, though
she didn't know why.
"I need a Time Key," asked Nemesis.
Pluto's eyes narrowed. A time key was a device which
allowed one to travel through time. It was a
tremendously powerful device, one that required great
responsibility to have.
"May I ask why?" queried Pluto cooly. Nemesis' behaviour as
of late had not inspired confidence, and this last request
was not helping.
"I've seen it in visions, Pluto. The spirits have shown me
the future, and it is a dark vision."
"Spirits are not to be trusted," said Pluto. "They may
distort the visions to their ends."
"The Silver Millenium will come to a close. You know this
to be true, mistress of time," accused Nemesis.
"There is a saying amongst the few who guard time," said
Pluto. "The future happens as it must, the past is as it
always will be."
"What of your duty to the Silver Millenium and her people?"
"Kingdoms rise and fall," said Pluto. "I help as best I
can, but there is no avoiding fate."
"The Silver Millenium will fall, and my people will be the
first to die! I will NOT stand by and allow that to
happen!" yelled Nemesis. She held her right hand out, and
shadows swirled around it, until an ebony whip formed.
"What are you doing, Nemesis?" asked Pluto calmly.
"Give me a time key. Please."
The chamber door swung open, revealing Sailor Venus and the
rest of the Senshi.
"Back away from her, witch," said Venus menacingly.
Nemesis narrowed her eyes, looking as if she was about to
take them all on. Then, suddenly and quietly, it left her.
"Very well," she whispered. "Let your kingdoms fall around
you. I will not let Nemesis share the same fate."
A black circle appeared under her feet. With a slight
'woosh', Nemesis sank into it and disappeared.
- - -
Deep within the caves of Nemesis, Jemma materialized. She
strode to the glowing red circle and sat down next to it
with a sigh.
They refused your request.
"Yes," she grumbled.
There is time yet.
You must grow in power.
There are secrets you have yet to learn.
There is time.
"Yes," she said quietly, her own eyes glowing a slight red.
"There is time."
- - -
"And so I listened to this spirit and enacted the rituals
which he described," said Gemma, facing away from John as
the cave around them dissolved into nothing. "Stupid,
stupid me."
"Let me guess," said John. "The spirit wasn't all that he
seemed."
Gemma nodded. "The rituals involved going to unexplored
regions of Nemesis, places where ordinary people would not
survive, but Sailor Nemesis would. There, in deep
underground chasms and barren wastelands, I placed sigils on
the earth. I could _feel_ the power that those sigils set
loose, and thought that power was soon to be mine."
Gemma took a deep breath, paused, then turned to face John.
"There are things in the universe far older than us, races
that have come and gone, secrets that we'll never know. What
I didn't know was that those sigils weren't for drawing in
power, but setting it loose."
"Setting it loose?"
"Those sigils weren't for tapping into power. They were for
setting it free. As it turned out, the Silver Millenium
wasn't the first civilization to use Nemesis as a prison.
"But I didn't realize it."
- - -
"The final sigil is in place!" yelled Sailor Nemesis. "What
now?!"
The howling wind was the only reply.
"Wiseman! Answer me!"
Fool.
Beneath her feet, the earth shuddered. Something deep
within the planet moved, something large, something
powerful.
I thank you for setting me free.
"What are you... no! Stop it!"
Foolish little girl, so easy to manipulate.
You will do nicely as an avatar.
She suddenly felt her soul being pushed back into the
darkest corners of her mind as something ancient beyond
words invaded her mind. The earth shook violently and the
wind screamed as the planet.
"NO! GET OUT OF MY MIND!"
Years of training suddenly kicked in. She recited spells of
binding and banishment, of power and protection, and she
felt the alien entity's grip on her mind falter to
nothingness.
Somewhere in space and time, the being known as Wiseman
hurled uncontrollably through time, space, and dimensions,
far into the future where it would meet its final fate.
- - -
"I... I managed to defeat Wiseman. Where he went, I don't
know, but he wouldn't be able to return to the solar system
for a long time. It was a small victory." Gemma shuddered,
tears forming in her eyes. "When I finally came to my
senses... I... I..."
She tried to hold it back, but the tears began streaming
from her eyes.
"It... whatever it was... it was a _part_ of the planet.
And when... and when I set it loose..."
The vision of Nemesis that was all around them began to
shudder, then shake, and finally shattered with a blinding
light. Everything around them was exploding, shooting out
into space, and a million lives screamed as one as their
world came to a sudden end.
"I'm sorry... so sorry..."
John took her into his arms and held her as she sobbed
uncontrollably. Just like he'd done so many times in the
past, thought John.
"Shh, s'okay Gemma. S'alright."
The grand scale of the disaster was stunning to John.
Through history, Constantines had always left a bloody trail
of wasted lives and great disasters. John himself had
dozens of deaths on his conscience.
But all that was nothing compared to the destruction of a
planet. How many lives were on that colony, he wondered.
How many thousands? Or even millions?
- - -
"One night, the astronomers of the other planets reported a
flash in the sky somewhere in the vicintity of the Nemesis
colony," said Pluto. "No gateway to the planet was working
either, all of them either cracking or shattering suddenly
all at once. I knew something was wrong, deeply wrong.
When the queen asked for someone to investigate, I had to go
see it myself."
"Whoa," said Minako breathlessly, the sort of 'whoa' that
said this was indeed an important and deep matter at hand.
"They'd managed to get one gateway repaired and working,
though none dared step through. It was feared that the dark
mages of Nemesis had finally brought unspeakable evils from
the other worlds. This was believed to be true, as for some
reason our mages could not summon forth a vision of Nemesis
either. It was with these expectations that I stepped
through the gate to Nemesis..."
- - -
"Impossible..."
Sailor Pluto stared around her at the clustered void of
space, with only asteroids and debris filling the air around
her.
She floated through the asteroid field, searching for
any clues of what had happened here. There were legends
that foretold of a time when Nemesis would fall, but for it
to truely be destroyed was something that she hadn't
considered.
And then she saw the palace.
The majestic Nemesis Palace, or what was left of it, spun
slowly in the abyss, her servants and masters floating dead
around it.
What could have done this? There was no force in the
universe she knew of that was powerful enough to destroy a
planet.
Except for Sailor Saturn, but Pluto would have known if it was
her...
A slight shimmer caught her eye atop one of the spires of
Nemesis Palace. Flying in closer, she could see a figure
curled up upon the spire's tip, curled up in a fetal
position, large ebony wings folded around her.
Sailor Nemesis.
Pluto slowly, cautiously floated towards her, and gently
touched her shoulder. Nemesis was mumbling something over
and over and trembling.
"Jemma, it's me. Setsuna."
And finally, Pluto heard what Nemesis was saying, over and
over...
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."
- - -
"Those would be Jemma's last words," said Setsuna. "As I
returned to the moon with her, Jemma fell into a coma that
she would not recover from."
Minako frowned, and said in all seriousness, "worse than
Mamoru after Usagi cooks for him, huh?"
Setsuna resolutely tried to ignore Minako's comment,
continuing her tale. "Her final words hinted that the
disaster was her fault. The massive amount of dark magic
tainting the remains of Nemesis was, in the eyes of many,
the final proof that it was she who caused it. From that
time onward, Queen Serenity made the use of dark magic
absolutely forbidden."
"Sounds to me like closing the barn door after someone steals
your stereo," Minako said, again intending to be serious.
Setsuna took a moment to take a deep breath.
"As for Jemma Konstyntin, she was placed in stasis, awaiting
the day healers would be able to place together her
shattered mind."
Minako frowned. "Wait. Why didn't they use the Silver Crystal
to heal Jemma?"
"Without killing the person who would be using the crystal?"
Minako slapped her head. "Oh, right."
- - -
"So, that's your story," said John. Gemma, still crying in
John's arms, though not as much as before, nodded.
"Well then, how'd we go from there to here?"
"I'm... I'm not sure. The others might know," said Gemma.
"It seems as if the royal families of the Silver Millenium
have been reborn. Perhaps it's our second coming."
"So you think you're here to help restore the kingdom?"
Gemma shook her head. "I don't think so. Even if I was, I
care little for it now. Let them have their kingdoms, I've
had enough of that."
"Know how you feel," said John. "Now... how the hell did
you end up in my head?"
"It's probably because you took the transformation wand,"
said Gemma. "It was supposed to unlock all the memories
that I had, as well as the power. Somehow, though, it
transferred it all to you. Funny, that. It shouldn't work
that way at all. I'm guessing the power I had is adapting
itself to your own, which is why you had those funny demons
dragged up from hell for a moment."
"Hell's Blazing Attacks and such, eh?"
Gemma nodded.
"Ah, lucky me," said John dryly.
"Your attacks are an extention of your true nature. Just
visualize what you wish to do, and say the phrase that comes
to mind. It will come to you naturally." Gemma smiled, a
small smile, but an improvement over her raging angst. "I
suppose a title fitting for you would be... hmm... Sailor
Hellblazer."
"Well, yes, and it rhymes too," deadpanned John. "So,
what's so important that you need to take back the wand?"
"I must return to Nemesis... or what's left of it," said
Jemma. "There's one last thing to do before I can rest..."
"I'll help, but on one condition," said John.
"Anything you ask, Uncle."
"One, I'm doing it, not you. And two, after we're done,
you'll go back to being how you were before this mess. You
live a _normal_ life."
"Actually, Uncle, there's a problem with not returning me to
my other half," said Jemma cautiously. It was that tone of
voice that said 'you aren't going to like what I'm going to
say', and John noticed.
"Problem?" askeed John.
"We're... stuck."
"Stuck? What d'you mean stuck?"
"The magic, my magic, it was never meant to be with you to
begin with, and now it's stuck."
"And?" asked John, not quite comprehending the problem.
"And... well... the only way to get it unstuck is to give
the power to my other half."
"No," said John firmly. "Absolutely not."
"And if you don't," continued Jemma, "well, you'll be a
woman for the rest of your life."
John blinked.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, and then opened it
again. "Stuck," he managed to say.
Jemma nodded, looking very apologetic.
- - -
"Oi! John! Wake up!"
With a groan and sigh, John sat up from the back seat. Much
to his irritation, he was still a she. "Wha... what's up,
Chas?"
"We're here."
"Here? What here?" She rubbed her eyes as she sat up,
twisting her back to work out some of the kinks.
"You asked me t'drive you home, right? Here's your flat."
"Oh, good. I was starting t'get that not-so-fresh feeling."
Chas stared at her, horrified. John broke out with a burst
of laughter.
"Just kiddin', mate."
"Jesus, John, don't kid about that shite. I get enough of
that crap from me missus."
"Heh, right. C'mon, let's go."
"What're you gonna do?"
"Get us a hostage."
- e n d p a r t 5 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
part 6
lost souls
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
"S'all dark. Looks like Gemma's asleep."
"Good. Now follow me, and don't do anything stupid."
The door to John's townhouse opened slowly, and the duo of
John 'Wonder Woman' Constantine and Chas 'Cabbie' Chandler
snuck inside.
"We're gettin' a hostage?" whispered Chas.
"Yeah," said John. "Small white cat. Scruffly little
bastard's around here somewhere, I can feel it."
Through sheer bloody luck, John and Chas didn't stumble on
anything or knock any objects down.
They made it as far as the stairs.
Good Luck, at that point, ceased to be a factor.
- - -
Gemma yawned and sat up, sleep still evading her grasp.
As she rose from bed, she pulled at the blanket, which in
turn sent 'Bill' the cat rolling.
*thud*
-meow?-
"Oh, sorry about that, Bill."
The cat gave her a blank stare, then lazily strolled out the
door.
A moment later, there was a loud cat yowl and frenzied
yelling, followed by the sound of something falling down the
stairs.
"Bill, you stupid cat, what'd you do now?"
Gemma rose from bed, went to the hallway, then stared in
utter shock at the foot of the stairs. There was Uncle
Chas, on the floor, his face buried in some girl's chest.
"Stupid bloody ca-WHOOPS!"
"CHAS! Get yer hands offa me!"
"Ow! Hold on, John! It was an acc-"
"Uncle Chas?"
The two slowly looked up, both looking mortified and
sheepish.
"WHAT are you doing?!" yelled Gemma.
"S'not what it looks like!" said Chas, blushing badly and
getting up as fast as he could manage. "I swear!"
"You ought to be ASHAMED! What would Geraldine think?
Uncle Chas, I'm sho... er..."
As she ranted on, Gemma kept on looking at the girl. She
couldn't help it, as there just seemed to be _something_
about her that nagged on Gemma's mind.
A small voice in her head whispered the answer. It was an
impossible answer, but as Gemma stared at the girl she
_knew_ it was true.
The short blond hair.
The rogue-esque look about her.
The cigarette in her mouth. Silk cut brand.
The distinctive trenchcoat.
"U-Uncle John?"
The girl grinned sheepishly. "Aheh, hi princess. You'll
_never_ believe what happened to me."
"Hey, will you get off? This hurts, you know."
All three paused, then turned to stare at the cat that was
partially crushed under John's back.
"What?" asked the cat. "Was it something I said?"
Gemma fainted.
- - -
"Well he's back," said Minako. "Now what do we do?"
"Wait and see what he does next."
"Why are watching in our civvies?"
"I suspect," said Setsuna, "that Constantine would sense us
if we weren't."
"Hey, you don't think he's gonna... y'know... do something
to his niece? You know, the evil uncle thing and all that."
"Given his history with the girl, I don't think so."
"Oh."
The two continued to stare at the townhouse, hidden in the
shadows. Setsuna was, as ever, serene. Minako was going
crazy.
"Minako."
"Yeah?"
"Stop tapping your feet."
"Oh. Sorry. Hey, is it just me or does Constantine kinda
look like Haruka?"
"Hm... they _do_ look somewhat related, don't they?"
At last, there was movement from the house. John and Chas
left, with John carrying a small sack that seemed to be
wobbling about.
A small white cat head popped out.
"Minako, when was the last time you saw Artemis?"
"Not for a couple of days," said Minako. "You think...?"
"Let's go."
- - -
Chas should have been feeling fairly shakey about now, but
he wasn't. A talking cat was fairly high up there in the
weirdness scale, but its impact was weakened greatly by
super-powered school girls, hellhounds, and a female John
Constantine.
It was still pretty bloody weird.
The cat poked its head out of the bag. "Is this bag really
neccessary? Come on now, let me out!"
"Shattup, scruffy," growled John, "Or I'll knock you one."
"Fine, fine," said the cat as it ducked back into the bag.
"No need to get touchy."
A cold breeze swept through the lawn. Static energy tickled
John's skin. Something was about to happen. Something
magical.
"VENUS CRYSTAL POWER, MAKE UP!"
"PLUTO PLANET POWER, MAKE UP!"
John groaned. "Oh bugger."
"Hey," said the cat as it popped its head out of the bag
again, "those girls look familiar."
"Back in, you!" John shoved the cat back in the bag and
turned to face the two magical girls. "Geddouta here, Chas.
I think I can handle it from here."
"Right then, see you later John. Lemme know how it turns
out, eh?"
Chas left for his cab quickly, leaving John to face the two
approaching magical girls.
"Hold it right there, catnapper!" yelled Sailor Venus.
"Ow! Hey, it's getting a bit uncomfortable in here!" yelled
Artemis.
"Well well, just the girls I've been looking for," said John
smoothly. Her whip materialized in her hand, which silently
began snaking around the bag. "Back away now, else the cat
gets a Hell's Tentacle Up The Arse."
"Artemis!" called Venus, "Are you okay!"
"Artemis?" replied a muffled voice in the bag. "That name
certainly sounds familiar... is that my name? I think it
is."
"What do you want, Constantine?" asked Pluto calmly.
John inwardly bristled as Pluto spoke. She reminded her
entirely too much of the Phantom Stranger. Perhaps they
were related.
"I want you two at Stonehenge before sunrise," said John.
"Be seeing you. HELL'S GATE!"
A circle lined with mysterious symbols appeared under John's
feet, and before the two Sailor Senshi could react, John
sank into it and disappeared.
John's last words, before disappearing, faded into the
wind...
"Well bugger me, it worked."
- - -
It was all some weird dream, thought Gemma. She'd had that
nasty microwave dinner before going to sleep and it gave her
a weird dream.
Her uncle was not an aunt.
He, er, she, was not on the floor with Uncle Chas.
The cat did not talk.
Right.
With those thoughts firmly in place, Gemma made her way back
to the guest room just in time to see a shimmering portal
appear in the middle of the room.
Uncle... er... Aunt John appeared, holding a squirming bag.
"Hey princess, sorry about earlier. Be a dear and hold this
bag for a bit? Just need to hide the fleabag till things
cool down and I figure they'd never think of looking in
here. Whatever you do, don't let it go. Back in a bit!
HELL'S GATE!"
A portal appeared beneath John's feet, which she quickly
sank into. John's last words faded and echoed as she
dissappeared.
"Worked again. Frig, this is nice..."
And then the cat popped its head out of the bag.
And it talked.
"Sorry, it's just getting too cramped in there. Mind if I
stretch my legs a bit?"
And Gemma fainted.
Again.
- - -
Many hours later, traveling through the night, Pluto and
Venus arrived at Stonehenge. At its center stood John
Constantine, while drawn all around him with some sort of
white powder were sigils, lines, and circles.
"Good," said John. She glanced at the first rays of the
rising sun as it streaked across the stones. "Just in
time."
"Where's Artemis?" asked Venus.
"Cat's in the bag, so to speak," quipped John. "And I know
where the bag is. You get him back after you've helped me.
Trust me, the fleabag's unharmed."
"If anything happens to Artemis..."
"She's in you, isn't she," said Pluto. "Jemma."
"Yes she is," replied John. She snapped her fingers. A
small flame lit at her fingertips, which she used to light
up the cigarette in her mouth. "Be glad you're dealing with
me instead, luv. She _really_ doesn't like you. But since
you're dealing with me, we'll take things one step at a
time. Jemma here is looking for a little redemption, and
you ladies are going to help."
"She killed over a million people," said Venus, "and she
destroyed an entire planet. I've got plenty of reason not
to trust her."
"Ah, yes, the planet thing," said John casually. "Might as
well straighten that out." She went on to explain Jemma's
side of the tale.
There was a moment of silence.
"So she was responsible for Wiseman too," said Venus flatly.
Pluto sighed. "Nemesis was always unlucky."
"Is there something I should know 'bout this Wiseman?" asked
John.
Pluto stepped forward and pulled John aside. "Well, you
see, it's like this," she said, and then she began to
explain the events of the Black Moon Crisis of a thousand
years into the future.
Venus couldn't hear entirely what Pluto was saying, but did
hear some of John's reactions:
"Queen Serenity? Not another bloody king'n queen
system."
"Well, I can see why they'd object. Purged by some
crystal thing? Sounds more like mind control."
"Wiseman? As in... oh. So that's what happened to the
bastard, eh? Well, look at it this way, Jemma kept'em
outta your hair for about three thousand years, yeah?"
"Almost destroyed the kingdom? Oh, well, everything was
fine in the end, right?"
John could feel Jemma's growing embarrasment and depression
with every word. To destroy a planet was bad enough, to
have the side effects of it carry over through thousands of
years to the future wasn't helping.
There was another moment of silence.
John spoke first. "Let's... just try to make this a fresh
start, eh? Look, Jemma was under a lot of pressure back
then. I'm sure you noticed she wasn't exactly in the best
of shape when she came to you." Pluto nodded. "She knows
she made a mistake," continued John, "and she just wants to
make things right."
"So, what is it she wishes to do, and how are we involved?"
asked Pluto.
"Well, this circle," said John as she pointed to a a small
circle at the edge of the stones, "is for you. And this
one's for your friend," said John, indicating another circle
at the opposite end of the stones. "And what you two will
be doing is lending me a little energy for a trip."
Pluto shook her head. "I will not allow time trav-"
"Ah, just a minute, who said anything about time travel?"
asked John. "You're a smart girl, Pluto. Have a look at my
little drawings. You tell me what I'm gonna do."
Pluto examined the sigils, circles, and arcane symbols,
while always keeping John in sight. Finally, it dawned on
her.
"This is a gate to the asteroid belt."
"Smart girl."
"But... why?"
"Tell me, after Nemesis bit the big one, did anyone bother
examining what was left?"
"No, it was too hazardous to. Dark magic was running wild
amongst the asteroids, even until the fall of the Silver
Millenium."
"Well, you should have."
"And why is that?" asked Minako.
- - -
Gemma had always heard about the stuff her Uncle John was up
to, by way of rumor and whisper and word on the street.
She'd heard of him bringing down demons and exorcising
ghosts. She'd heard that he even beat the Devil.
"Do you have any more tuna?"
A talking cat didn't seem to fit into the description.
"Right here."
"Ah. Thank you. You've been a most gracious host, by the
way. I only wish we'd have met under calmer circumstances."
Gemma was sitting in John's living room, watching TV with a
talking cat. This was many things: weird, cool, and stupid
all came to mind.
"So you've got all your memory back yet?" asked Gemma.
"Most of it," said the cat. "Still a bit fuzzy, especially
recent events, but for the most part yes."
"A magical cat, eh?"
"Mm-hm. That's me."
"And you're normally in Japan?"
"I have lots of memories of sushi, yes."
"Why weren't you talking earlier?" asked Gemma
"Mostly because you had that bandage on my forehead. It
covered up that crescent moon there, see? When that happens
I'm reduced to being a rather normal cat."
"Ah, I see. So... what were you doing 'round here?"
"Something to do with a transformation rod.. I think I was
supposed to give you one."
"Transformation rod?"
Artemis nodded. "Say... you ever watch that cartoon show
Sailor V?"
"Seen it a few times. It's about that girl that transforms
into something Wonder Woman-like, yeah?"
"Well, I suppose that's right."
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you were supposed to become like Sailor V."
Gemma stared at Artemis.
"Nooo, no bloody way," she said in disbelief.
"You do know the cartoon is based on a real super-heroine,
yes?"
"Really?"
"Yes, though she's a regular of Tokyo these days, she did
spend a few months here."
"Really?" asked Gemma.
"Oh, yes," said Artemis proudly. "It was a few years back,
you might've caught it in the newspaers."
"I'm not the newspaper type. Sorry."
"Oh." This took some of the steam out of Artemis' momentum
and pride. "Er, well, anyway, I recall it was a good stint
in London."
"So I was supposed to be like that, was I?"
"Yes."
"With that bloody ridiculous short skirt?" asked Gemma with
a frown.
"Well, it's not as short as it seems..."
"And I'm to run about beating up nasties in the name of the
moon, the stars, and lots of love?" asked Gemma, her frown
deepening.
"Not in those exact words," said Artemis sheepishly.
"Why me?"
"Well, it's a long story," said Artemis. "Do you believe in
reincarnation?"
- - -
A solitary speck of light appeared amongst the darkness
of the asteroid belt. That light expanded, becoming a
circle, which in turn became a ring. From within that ring,
John Constantine emerged.
She'd always wondered what space was like. Breathtaking was
one word that came to mind. Given that logically she
should've been dead, Pretty Bloody Scary came to mind as
well.
"Right then, Jemma. Let's do it."
John closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It
was not for the sake of oxygen (which there was none of, not
in space, but merely as a relaxation technique.
Then she stretched her arms out wide.
John began chanting in ancient tongues not spoken for
thousands of years, spells forgotten to all but a handfull
of beings on earth, and she reached out with the magic.
Slowly, gradually, the entire ring of the asterioid belt
began to glow. It was, at first, wrapped in a dingy purple
light. After a while, the unpleasant aura faded away. A
few seconds later, the asteroids were consumed with an eerie
aura of flickering white.
"I'm sorry you waited so long," said John. "Go on, you're
free."
A small point of light floated away from one of the
asteroids. It floated in space for a moment, spinning
around in lazy circles, then dissappeared into the void.
It was followed by one, then two, twenty, a hundred, a
thousand, a swarming sea of shining white souls that drifted
from the remains of Nemesis and into the darkness of
eternity.
And at last, it was over.
'Thank you, Uncle.'
"My pleasure, princess. C'mon, let's go home."
- - -
"A million souls trapped for thousands of years," said Pluto
sadly. "Such a tragedy."
"Yeah, like the Titanic," said Venus. "only worse. You
think John'll be able to set them free?"
"If not John, then the part of Jemma that's within him. And
if not her, perhaps Sailor Mars." Pluto hesitated, looked
up to the sky, then smiled. "She did it. They're free."
Venus arched an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
"I just do."
"Oh."
John Constantine, Sailor Hellblazer, emerged from the
shining portal at the heart of Stonehenge once more, in
_just_ the right angle to get totally blinded by the rising
sun.
"Ow, shite! Bright!"
And then she was grabbed by the throat by Sailor Venus in a
not-so-friendly manner.
"Ack!"
"Artemis! Now!"
"Right! Ack! Okay!"
- - -
"And so you're saying I was one of those Sailor Girlies?"
asked Gemma.
"Well, yes."
"Hm. Do you remember how I was, what kind of a person I
was, back then?"
"Sorry, no. My memory's still a bit fuzzy, and I don't
think I knew you personally either."
"Hm."
>From that point on, they killed some time watching the Dirk
Rigby show.
"Nice fellow, Dirk," said Artemis. "I remember he
interviewed Sailor V once."
"Oh."
"You think they'll be back soon?" asked Gemma.
"I don't... er... hey, what's that?" asked Artemis
"What's what?"
"That big shimmering portal hovering in the air outside."
Gemma looked outside to see a shimmering disc floating
several meters above the lawn. A moment later, three
figures fell ungracefully from it with a collection of
thuds.
-thud- "Oof."
-thud- "Ow!"
-thud- "Bloody Fucking Hell!"
"Ah," said Gemma. "They're back."
- - -
A day later...
With no more mysteries to solve and no more adventure to be
found, Minako Aino went to a train station, again found
herself facing the wedding of Katerina and Alan.
No sense in putting things off, she thought, and after a day
of catching up on the sleep she'd missed, Minako caught the
first train out. The wedding ceremony was to be held in a
country estate owned by an uncle of Alan's, a few miles away
from London with a good amount of trees and forests around.
Waiting for the train was something she wasn't looking
forward to, if only because of what lay ahead.
"So, are you ready?" asked Setsuna.
"As ready as I'll ever be," mumbled Minako.
"You'll be just fine," said Artemis. "You're just nervous
because you haven't seen them in a long while."
"I agree with Artemis," said Pluto. "You've nothing to
worry about."
Trains came and went, as did the passengers in a light
swarm. Birdsong and idle chatter filled the morning air.
"So, you think the whole Nemesis thing is settled?" asked
Minako.
"Probably not," said Setsuna. "Though Constantine says
Jemma has been silent since they returned from the asteroid
belt, it is no guarantee that things will be stable. With
the Constantine family line, things rarely ever are. I'll
be keeping an eye on him... ah... her from time to time."
"Maybe we should've invited Constantine over to Japan."
Setsuna arched an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I dunno... maybe Ami or Rei woulda been able to figure
something out. Maybe it'd help John get used to the idea of
being a Sailor Senshi."
"Can you imagine Constantine and Haruka in the same room?"
Minako thought about it.
"Oooh, they wouldn't get along at all."
Setsuna nodded.
"You know, I couldn't imagine how it'd be like, stuck as a
guy. I wonder how well Constantine's gonna take being stuck
as a girl."
- - -
This was not a good morning for John Constantine, Sailor
Hellblazer.
The first matter of business was a confrontation with Gemma.
John had never argued with her before, not like this.
"But Uncle John-"
"Ah-ah. NO. First of all, your mom would tear my balls off
if she knew I let you get into magic. Second, -I- don't
want you getting into it."
"But-"
"Gemma, you don't understa-"
"No, Uncle John, YOU don't understand! I'm a grown woman
now! I can make these decisions for myself! Besides, it's
my destiny-"
"Destiny? Destiny's bullshit, and so's this Sailor Nemesis
nonsense! You're NOT going to mess about with magic!"
"Oh, 'Do as I say, not as I do' then?! That's not fair!"
"Do as I say 'cos I know what the hell I'm taking about!"
"But... but what about you, eh? 'Auntie' John?"
John sighed and took a deep breath. Arguing with Gemma like
this was something that hurt a lot. She'd never done it
before, and hoped to never do it again.
"Don't you see, Gemma?" asked John sadly. "I'm yer auntie
now BECAUSE of magic. It seems all neat and keen when
you're on the outside, but once you're in it just takes so
much from you. Magic's got a price, especially for us
Constantines. I don't ever want you to know how much
that'll cost you." Before Gemma could argue John held her
in a tight embrace. "I just don't want you to get hurt,
princess. You understand?"
Gemma nodded, embracing John as well.
"Now listen up," said John as she slowly let Gemma go. "I'm
gonna be off traveling for a while. There's some people I
know that know people and such, and I'm thinking maybe
they'll help me get back to being 'Uncle' John instead of
'Auntie' John."
"Okay, Uncle."
John grinned mischievously, though her eyes were still
somber. "Now, can I trust you to watch over the house? Eh?
No wild bloody parties with toilet paper flyin'about,
right?"
"'Course not, Auntie John. Take care, eh?"
"Who, me? Of course. Right then." John gave Gemma a kiss
on the forehead, then one more smile. "G'bye, Gemma."
And so John walked away, from her house, from Gemma, and
quite possibly from ever being a man again.
And the first thing John did was go somewhere with alcohol.
Right about now she felt the need to get rightly and truely
pissed.
- e n d p a r t 6 -
---------------------------------
Rod M. & David Tai present...
John Constantine:
SAILOR HELLBLAZER
epilogue
constantine forever
A 'Blame Mike Loader' Production
---------------------------------
"If you choose Magic, you will never be able to return
to the life you once lived. Your world may be more...
exciting... but it will also be more dangerous. Less
reliable. And once you begin to walk the path of
Magic, you can never step off it."
- the Phantom Stranger
"The Books of Magic"
Ten years ago...
The sun set on another quiet day in a desolate suburb. A
little girl, the only person in sight in the area, stood
atop a swing, rocking mindlessly back and forth.
Gemma Masters was not a happy girl. Her childhood had
quickly sunken into a mundane and boring existence. She had
few friends, since her parents tended to move around so
much.
Her father was not much of a presence in her life. He just
seemed to be... there.
All mum ever did was tell her DON'T do this DON'T do that.
There had to be more to life than this.
There was, actually.
Her uncle John told her of far-off places she'd never see,
and brought back neat... things. A toy crocodile from a
faraway tribe, a gemstone from a forgotten city, a frozen
teardrop of an angel (or so he claimed).
There was an amazing world out there, and it was out of her
reach.
At that moment, Gemma sealed her fate with a thought.
I want it too.
I want to see those other worlds.
I want to see what nobody's ever seen.
I want to be just like Uncle John.
I want the magic.
- - -
Modern day...
A drink.
John needed a drink, several drinks if possible, and in a
place where her appearance wouldn't be too weird.
There was only one pub he knew of that would fit the bill,
the place run by the Lord of the Dance.
With her spirits already low, John slouched through the
doorway and took a seat at the far end of the bar.
"Oi, pint'a Guiness here."
"Coming right up." The barkeep finally turned around. John
took one look, and was nearly speechless.
The Lord of the Dance was normally a stout fellow, tall,
muscular, with a manly beard and clothes that would somewhat
resemble that of viking furs.
The creature standing behind the bar had that same bearded
face, though now it was in an irritable scowl. The rest of
him, however, was far from normal. The first thing he
noticed was that the man was shirtless, and in these silly
black tights. His body was now lean, thin, and rather
hairless, with bits of black and green body paint forming
patterns on either side of his belly.
"Jesus, what the hell happened t'you?!" she blurted out.
The Lord of the Dance took a step back, surprised. "Er, do
I know you, miss?"
"Take a friggin guess, mate," said John. She lit a
cigarette and adjusted her trenchcoat.
"John?"
She nodded.
"And I thought I was having a bad time of it. What happened
to you?"
"Long story. What happened to YOU?"
The Lord of the Dance sighed. "Reconfiguration, John. It's
a right bitch sometimes."
John nodded.
- - -
Reconfiguration was what happened to the deities when the
beliefs of man changed over time. The Norns and the
Yggdrasil were prime examples of configuration. Once, long
ago, the Yggdrasil was a tree, and the three goddessess were
its gardeners. Now, the Yggdrasil was a massive computer,
and the Norns were maintainers of the system.
Reconfiguration was known to do odd things to deities.
Cupid, for example, had gone from a dashing figure from
Roman myth to a sickeningly cute cherub with little wings.
His most recent change was the most ridiculous: a rotund
bearded gangsta weilding a machinegun which shot chocolate
bullets laced with love potion. He was the 'Gangsta of
Luv'.
Reconfiguration was something to fear indeed.
- - -
"It's because of some bloody prancing wanker tourin' around
the world, John!" raged The Lord of the Dance. He pulled
out a poster, featuring a young man, bare-chested, in black
tights, in a dramatic pose on a stage full of similarly clad
dancers. The name of the show was "The Lord of the Dance".
"Oh, Jesus, THAT thing," said John.
"Yes, THIS thing," spat the Lord of the Dance. "Thanks to
this Irish capering pansy tap-fairy, I'M LIKE THIS!"
John smirked and lit a cigarette. "Well, mate, do not go
gently into those black tights. Rage, rage against the
wearing of the tights!"
The Lord of the Dance gave John a flat look. "Veeery funny,
Constantine."
"Well, at least you still got yer balls," said John.
"Tightly squeezed as they may be in this silly outfit,"
muttered the Lord of the Dance. "Now how about you, eh?"
John told him.
There was a moment of silence as the Lord of the Dance
absorbed this information.
"Sailor Hellblazer, eh? Sounds kinda catchy, actually."
"I am NOT going about super-heroing, right? No way."
"And y'know, as a girl, y'look quite interesting," said the
Lord of the Dance with a chuckle.
"Keep on that line of thought and I'll rip your balls off.
I haven't changed THAT much."
"Heh, so I guess." The Lord of the Dance sat back and
polished a glass, as many a barkeep tended to do while
talking. "I must say, John, perhaps you should've let Gemma
take the thing."
"No."
"I mean, you've not only taken a magic that was meant to be
hers, you've actually stolen a part of her. That could have
bad side-effects, my friend. Did you think about that?"
John sighed and thumped her head on the bar. "Shit. No.
All the more reason for me to try and sort this mess out as
soon as possible. There HAS to be a way out of this without
spoiling Gemma's life with magic."
There was a tap on John's shoulder. She turned around.
"Yeah?"
A demoness, blond and clad in black leather, grinned
wickedly. "So it IS true! WAHAHAHAA! Oh, this is rich!"
John turned around, grumbling. "Sod off, Mara."
"Oh, no!" said Mara gleefully. "We must SHARE and ENJOY
this moment! Say cheeeese!"
-click-
Mara walked away cackling wickedly, with camera in hand,
leaving John Constantine simmering at the bar.
She wagged her cigarette at the Lord of the Dance. "This
day just keeps on getting better."
"Are you really prepared t'spend the rest of your life as a
woman, Johnny?" asked the Lord of the Dance, genuinely
concerned.
John took a long chug of her guiness, sighed, then slumped
on the bar. "It's Gemma's life, y'see. She's... she's the
closest thing I'll ever have to a daugher of my own. I'll
do _anything_ to make sure her life's better than mine."
The Lord of the Dance nodded solemly. "Yeah, I know how
that goes, Johnny."
"Lemme tell you," said John, digging into her pocket. "I
will NEVER let Gemma waste her life by getting her hands on
this stupid..."
She suddenly stood up and began digging furiously in her
pockets. "What the... where did I put the fucking thing?!
Shite!"
"John? You okay?"
"The stupid magic wand! Where'd I put it?! Where...
where... where..."
She paced around, trying to think of where she could have
lost it.
And then realization struck her.
The argument.
The hug.
"GEMMMMAAAAAAAAAA!"
- - -
She used to frequent this playground, back in the days when
she and her mother came to visit Uncle John. It was a nice
park, back then, and even now.
It was always a quiet place, where she could think clearly.
Gemma looked at the magic wand in her hand nervously, biting
her lower lip.
She had a decision to make.
The rod felt comfortable in her hand, as if it was meant to
be there. Then again, it WAS meant to be there. A part of
her, born over two thousand years ago
She thought on the words of her uncle on the matter. Once
you walk the path of magic, there's no turning back.
No turning back.
One more time, she held the rod before her.
She smiled.
"HELLFIRE POWER, MAKE UP!"
- - -
*BAMPF*
"What the... I'm..." John checked himself briefly,
making sure that certain parts of his anatomy were gone, and
other parts had returned. He laughed, slightly, in relief
that he was once again part of the human race that used
urinals. "HA! I'm a MAN! Ha-HA! YES! I'm a MAN! A MAN!
A... a..."
And then he realized what it meant.
"Shit. Damn. Damn damn damn damn DAMN!" He kicked a
barstool in frustration and slumped back down on his own
seat.
"John... what's going on?" asked the Lord of the Dance.
"It's won," he said sadly. "The magic's won. Another
generation tossing itself to the old Constantine curse." He
covered his head with his hands and sighed. "All this, and
her mom's gonna kill me."
"There now, John," said the Lord of the Dance. He patted
John on the shoulder, trying to comfort the man. "Look,
magic might've royally screwed your life, and the lives of
countless other Constantines, but surely there's an
exception or two?"
"There was Johanna Constantine... but she was one total
bitch."
"Y'know, Johnny, I'll wager that Gemma'll do all right.
Besides, the worst is in the past, right? How can you top
blowing up a planet?"
"Hey, she's a Constantine," reminded John. "If there's one
thing we can do, it's royally fuck up repeatedly."
"Look, John. Take'er under your wing. Teach the girl the
ropes, show her the scene, guide her. If you leave her on
her own, she just might make the same mistakes you made, or
even worse. Be there for her, man. I think she'll need you
now more than ever."
"Hrhm."
"Besides," said the Lord of the Dance, with a twinkle in his
eye, "She's off to an interesting start already, eh?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"Why, she's out-tricked the trickster."
John mulled that fact over, took another swig of Guiness,
then snorted. And then he snickered. And then he let loose
with laughter.
"Aheh, yeah, so she did. Yeah. Heheh."
The Lord of the Dance raised a glass filled with ale and
raised it up. "Here then, John. Let's have a toast, eh?"
"A toast? To what?"
"To the future, friend. To the future."
John nodded and raised his own glass. "Right then. To the
future."
"Cheers!"
- - -
A thousand years into the future...
He walked.
A tiny shining light in the night shone behind him, the
shining city that was Crystal Tokyo.
It was supposed to be a utopia.
It was a sham.
Oh, yes, Crystal Tokyo was a bloody nice city, with it's
nice people and its nice weather, and everyone with nice,
agreeable attitudes, and everyone bein' coddled so much they
didn't realize exactly how fragile their position in life
really was.
Without the protection of the Queen, they'd be helpless,
dead in hours. Clueless sods.
A right and proper world should be where every man and woman
would be able to guide their own destiny, not be under the
shackles of a matriarch government.
They tossed him out for being a 'heretic', for being a
'disruptive element' disagreeing with the royal witch.
They'd regret it. He'd show them.
He had the will.
He had the magic.
With his schemes and his dreams, Jon Constantin set out to
the wilderness of the world, to make his own destiny...
- t h e e n d -
next up:
writer's notes and the outtakes.
dedicated to my loverly niece, may she never
know what a sailor fuku is in her life.
-rod m.