John sighed deeply and slung his head as he tucked away his little black book. He stood up then stepped off the bed as the young girl lay there unconscious. His first thought was whisky, which his actions mirrored, downing the glass as soon as he got his hand to it.

Constantine glanced back over at the girl, then without much more lingering about he left her, strapped to the bed then walked outside the room. The scared and anxious waiting parents ran straight in as he exited and brushed right by him, nudging him to the side as they did.

He was use to not being thanked, and didn't do it for that reason. He had his own story. His own purpose, his own sail he set every morning as he awoke and downed a seventh of whisky and began his days chainsmoking.

John was seeking redemption. But for it to work, he had to walk in two worlds. And in that he had more than purpose, he had the fiery emotion many did when they walked through life with such all encompassing fiery footsteps, setting everything ablaze.

He was also here for revenge. His own brand. And if you got in his way, you'd have to expect to be Constantined. His hellish desire to right his own wrongs kept him battling the wrong doings of others, regardless of the consequences. It also had him here in Vegas helping a district do some unruly and unholy shit.

He just hoped the better part of the world which was watching over mankind was also writing down his good deeds. Beause he was about to go and join the others serving that revenge dish on the hot flame of no time to waste and he hoped whoever was keeping records had their quill ready.