Constantine; The Laughing Magician Presents; Life in the Real World

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Chapter One: As Told by John Constantine – Lady of the Lake

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Most of us are farthest from the truth about WHAT our universe – an' what magic she manages on a daily level, represents to our plane of existence. Oh, excuse the wit. For a bloke like yours truly, we sorcerers of the "dark arts" tend to keep quiet about such matters around the rest of the population.

Life without magic for me, is a paradox. An example of what I can never be again. My family's lineage dates back to the olden days in mother Britain. The rest of you may call me a cad for it, but what do I know! I'm just a shadow on the wall your lot'd rather spite – if there's any obligation to you folks, I imagine my time to tell of my falling in with the wrong un- dead crowd, might make for an exceptionally better explanation. Rather than my nonsensical, gabbin' on in the pub one dreary October night; as devils come out to play some pool in the main hall…You be the judge if you think my life is nothin' to kid.

All of it….and yet –

"Tis life as a hangman to fall victim to the immortal throws as one branded of human sin. I am John Constantine; a detective. No, an exorcist of the living bogeymen under your beds? Nah! I'm just that "wanker" who's always got somethin' to add to his list of things, to do before he dies. If I ever have a chance, at trying to free - fall off of any London bridges… I'm a monster, and most of we ghoulies never make it to those pearly gates in one piece…. So, welcome to my world. As a hunter of the mysterious and a regulator of all that goes bump in the night. This, is the real world in our Jolly old' London. Take a seat and drink it in….my tale….begins."

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As you may have guessed, I'll be the narrator all throughout this entire story – front to back. My work had me headed to where the lake beastie, Nessie might be causing a stir. Turns out I'm not the only investigator who's gotten the memo.

"Jeepers! Are you here for the tour, Mr?" A red headed lass at the age Chaz's daughter may very well be in years gone on. She's well to do, and seems to be getting along with a few other young people her age. A blonde bachelor from the States, a ruddy looking lad with a green top and no sense of decorum, a brunette who's lost her glasses it seems….and –

"Scoo –

"Ah, I'm actually here to speak with the museum's director." I've got a hunch that they' come in before me to meet at the man's desk... "The castle tours are not short at all." Glasses girl says and picks up her guide to point at a time frame that will be the start of the tourist's session. "We'll be scaling a good chunk of the whole hour, so we might catch the director in that allotted time if we wait on the tour."

"That's fine, but this can't take much longer for me. Where is the director?" I'm now up to the desk and in the face of a lass who is filing away more papers than her fingers can hang on to.

"Mr. Hurley isn't in till one." She's let me down…bullocks! "He's out to lunch at the moment." I groan aloud and realized that these kids are also as defeated by the news as I was. "So, what do we do now, gang?" The blonde male asks, yet he may as well be talking to a bunch of statues. (The animation back then was very stiff and inflexible. Joke!)

What universe are these tourist yanks, from? The fact that they speak in jive as far as I can see, makes the castle into a dimensional rift full of holes. Agh…my skull needs a pint and smoke to clear me up right.

"I'll be back. Please tell Mr. Hurley that an old friend has some talk to bring up about Nessie's health bein' on his mind."

"Nessie" was only real to the imagination. I had no clue what I was doing in Loch Ness territory. Was just glad to have left the "crew" of misplaced children at the desk, far away from my genius imagining of that situation…. see? Staying around them has made me lose my train of though! Convinced that Castle Loch Ness isn't a power spot? Think again.

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She was going to hatch it, another kid in the water but tourism was making a rocky time of the beast's pregnancy. Ole' John's job was to scope out the noise, go and see if humans were the only thing making the gentle giant madder than a bull on steroids.

"And of course, I said alright!" I'm madder just thinking about it…

"Chaz! Is your time with my "crew" any less of a bloody, bore? I just need to take a drag and get back to London before this fog drives me mad…"

~ Alright, John. Take it easy, mate. The job is just to make sure the Loch's attraction isn't under the weather. That's all this is. ~

"I wish it were that simple, Chaz." I shake my head to this degree of thinking. Too cheery. The director has me all astir.

"I want to say Hurley isn't trading magical items to keep up with the times, mate…. but Chaz. Nessie's egg being stolen if it is, makes me point to that backstabber. I want you to dig up all you know about sea monster hatchlings and get back to me, pronto. No delay."

~ Whatever you say, John. ~ The link broke up and I decided to scale the lake on foot as the fog over it is making me nauseous, something dreadful.

"I bet…. it's not a natural gas from the lake." I think that's why Nessie is in a temper… she only gets this way when her habitat is under fire. Tourists aren't to blame, then what is?"

Asking the big questions comes later. First, I have to dive deep into that pool and unearth the cause of the beast's local burdens.

Having all the knowledge of the world's magic at your fingertips is a snap to a sorcerer, yet a Laughing Magician is what I live as. I conjure the waves up and breathe the breath of a madman while doing so.

~ Anail an duine, uisge do'n doimhne, a bhean an locha, tha mi guidhe, leig dhomh dol a steach do d' lùchairt fo na tuinn ! ~

I say it again, this time in my native tongue.

~ Breath of man, water of the deep, lady of the lake, I beg you, let me enter your palace under the waves! ~

The waters surround me as a cloak and I take it to breathe in fast breadths, as I wander across the waves and in to Lady Nessie's secluded domain.

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I'm protected from drowning since I spoke in the local good's language, yet one wrong move can steal my breath away if I dishonor the pact between us.

The Lady of the Lake, be it Nessie or some Arthurian figure of lore, I just want my pint and good reason to skip town for awhile. Swamp thing's been asking for me, I never return his calls enough beside Chaz, of course.

As I look below at the green and rocky bottom of the lake, I see a dark cavern peering back that has to have Nessie nestled up inside it. The fog is a trick. A deterrent, and she can't stand much more. Neither can my sniffer.

I take to the cave and look around it. All aglow with the dappled light of a sea cavern, she sleeps below he waters as the grotto narrows and I drape the cloak over myself to maintain its magic.

"Ah, lov…. you aren't well at all…this has to stop. Is she…" I'm sure she's resting her body, but it can't be all that bad. She's breathing, yet looks terrible. Her pallor is poor, her scales are simply not as ravishing I recall, from the legends. Then again, we've only met once. A summer vacation in Scotland. I was not even seven and my powers called to her as we stayed by the water until Pops pulled me out.

It's why I was so touched by this spot. She was hurt, and so was I.

"Easy, Ness…. we'll find help. How's the kid doin?" I'm no animal doctor. If I had been, I'd be a dead man before my fortieth birthday.

She whines to me and I can honestly sense that pain as my own. "Easy…I have a way to keep you safe." I tear a strip of the cloth and try to let some of my breath onto it. I feed it to her, and she accepts, protected by my life force for the known while until I can seek out the one who's poisoned poor Nessie's only home.

When I get back to the surface, I find a tricky Hurley at the water and he's got hands clasped together lie a saint. He's no pope mind you.

"Hurley? Is that you, mate?" I made sure to store the cloak in a pocket and intend to return the rest with an explanation to the god in which it was borrowed from. All in a day's work.

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We walk along the perimeter and he tells me about the strange changes and another unknown threat that made the castle also have a bit of a fit in this dilemma I'm swimming into.

"You, said that older buildings gain lives and hearts over time. Ness you claimed, is being poisoned by I believe, its decay.…The baby in her belly won't survive unless the land is purified. All but a druid could do it. Fix the lake." Frowned the director, who's ancestors believe by the way, in such magic as white and black.

"Hurley, you cared enough to keep Nessie content until this day, and your father knew it was your right and mine to see that she lives on. The castle isn't exactly the issue. Something beneath it is rotting."

"What?? What in the world are you, sayin? How's the blood an 'bone of a kingdom still buried and letting off miasma into the lake?"

"A hole. I'm sure of it."

A rift. An imbalance. Yes, it all fits together, perfectly.

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