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Jan. 27th, 2006 07:35 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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neutral_omensDate: January 21, 2000
Status: Public
Setting: Manor grounds
Summary: John gets introduced to Frankie, and plays counselor again.
He wasn't really a dog person. So when, on his way back from a visit to town, John first caught sight of the skeletal mutt romping happily about the Manor grounds, his first impulse was to laugh incredulously (from a safe distance,) and his second was to give it a pass. Whatever demon owned the beast was welcome to it, as long as it wasn't gnawing at his ankles.
Unfortunately, for a thing without any ears, the undead dog had excellent hearing. Apparently it was also as curious as any specimen of the living variety, because it turned at the sound of his laugh, cocked its skull inquisitively, and made a beeline straight for him, mandibles hanging open in a fashion that suggested its tongue would have been hanging out jauntily had it possessed one.
"Ah, crap," John muttered, too far from the Manor entrance to get inside before it reached him, and lacking anything that might have made an effective weapon.
"And me without a newspaper." Knowing better than to turn and run, he opted to stand his ground, shifting his stance a little so he could present his leather-clad forearm if the thing made to bite him.
He spared a glance around the area to see whether its owner was anywhere nearby. Presuming it actually had an owner and wasn't, say, an unexpected side-effect of the general Manor weirdness.
"There's a good boy," he said in as friendly a tone as he could muster, bracing himself as it loped up to him. It was wagging its bony tail. That was a good sign, right?
Status: Public
Setting: Manor grounds
Summary: John gets introduced to Frankie, and plays counselor again.
He wasn't really a dog person. So when, on his way back from a visit to town, John first caught sight of the skeletal mutt romping happily about the Manor grounds, his first impulse was to laugh incredulously (from a safe distance,) and his second was to give it a pass. Whatever demon owned the beast was welcome to it, as long as it wasn't gnawing at his ankles.
Unfortunately, for a thing without any ears, the undead dog had excellent hearing. Apparently it was also as curious as any specimen of the living variety, because it turned at the sound of his laugh, cocked its skull inquisitively, and made a beeline straight for him, mandibles hanging open in a fashion that suggested its tongue would have been hanging out jauntily had it possessed one.
"Ah, crap," John muttered, too far from the Manor entrance to get inside before it reached him, and lacking anything that might have made an effective weapon.
"And me without a newspaper." Knowing better than to turn and run, he opted to stand his ground, shifting his stance a little so he could present his leather-clad forearm if the thing made to bite him.
He spared a glance around the area to see whether its owner was anywhere nearby. Presuming it actually had an owner and wasn't, say, an unexpected side-effect of the general Manor weirdness.
"There's a good boy," he said in as friendly a tone as he could muster, bracing himself as it loped up to him. It was wagging its bony tail. That was a good sign, right?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-01-28 07:44 pm (UTC)"Nah, Stephen didn't give me Frankie. I got him from another surgeon. And I knew Stephen before all the... other stuff. Back in medical school. Showed promise but had a few personality problems, shall we say. He's gotten a lot better since then; I'd hoped he would though he lost his surgeon's hands in the process, after the accident.
The whole thing turned out rather well though. Funny that."
Frankie came back and dropped the stick at Raphael's feet then sat next to him.
"'Don't like' is a mild way to put it. I can't stand it here. It's bad for me, I can feel it. I can feel myself sliding a little more everyday, doing questionable things, feeling... the wrong emotions, I guess.
And I personally think you're wrong. Everything so far - Aziraphale, whatever Crowley did, and so on... it's all been handled by other people. In the meantime bird flu is breaking out, there's a famine brewing in Kenya, there are all sorts of medical frauds going on... Not that it's unusual. With six billion people, there's always a problem somewhere. And I'm holed up in a mansion with a bunch of beings, half of whom I dislike and none of whom need my help."
He looked John in the eyes.
"I don't mind all of you. But I've basically been chained here with people I don't care for who are keeping me from helping the ones I do. Sorry to disappoint, but that means I'm getting out of here as often as I can without violating orders.
Don't count on me." He frowned. "And if what the rumors say comes true, if what Crowley says is accurate... when the time comes I might not even care about healing, period."
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Date: 2006-01-28 10:50 pm (UTC)"Wish you luck, then. Nice talking with you again, Raphael. I gotta run." He offered the bone dog a cautious pat on the head. Er, skull. "Good to meet you, Frankie."
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Date: 2006-01-29 07:27 pm (UTC)"Constantine?" He asked, dashing over to the man.
"Could you wait a moment?" He pleaded. "I need to ask you something."
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Date: 2006-01-29 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-29 07:37 pm (UTC)"If... if you told a half-truth to somebody, if you... left something out, but they were happy and you needed them and everybody got what they wanted - would it be so bad? Practically speaking. If a truth would badly hurt somebody, would you tell them? I mean..."
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Date: 2006-01-29 07:47 pm (UTC)He shrugged. "Then again, that's just me. I'm an absolute bastard with the worst luck in the known Universe. Ask anybody."