Jaqueline 'Jax' Creedy // John Constantine (DC)

It's amazing what a bit of sun will do for a girl's mood. Well, the sun or the tequila. Couldn't really say which.

Word on the grape vine is a bunch of heroic idiots stormed the castle saved the day. Glad to see things are somewhat back to normal. Or as normal as a group of freaks could ever be. I'm taking the rest of the week off. Try not to break anything else while I'm gone?

[Private to Dex and Natalie]
Hey guys. Looks like I'm sticking around here a little longer than I thought. Don't burn the place down- I'll wire my half of the rent next week, if I'm not back.

[Private to Dex]
So, how was that V-Day, tiger? Should I be on the lookout for a new place?

[Private to Josh]
Still in Cabo. For the moment. We're... getting along. More or less. The tequila helps.

For the record, I fucking rock. And, if it weren't entirely spiteful and against his personal ethical code, I'd be getting a cape for this.

Okay, so we got the idea off a bad TV show. But it works. And I'm going to run with it. Anything to get out of the fucking snow.

In less cryptic-bitch speak; Valentine's Day, this weekend. I'm having a single bitches' night at the Skins around here. Anyone not dragging along an SO is welcome to come, although I'll warn you, I expect everyone to get at least one lap dance while we're there. Show the hard-working ladies and gents giving up their Bleeding Hearts' Day a little monetary love, am I right?

[Private to Josh]
Cabo San Lucas. For what it's worth. I might head down there this weekend, see her in the flesh. This astral projection shit is tiring as hell.
[/Private to Josh]

[Private to Dex]
So, I might be heading to Cabo in person, Saturday. At the least to get away from all the fucking snow. If you and Kel are planning to have a Valentine's Day, I can make a weekend out of it.
[/Private to Dex]

Finally got around to picking up the last few issues of The Book (so sue us for not really enjoying reading them, alright).

Mumbai actually sounds like a nice little get away, right about now. I'm just horrified about this month's issue. That cannot go well for anyone, least of all us.

To the anonymous gifter who left the little box- am I supposed to know what to do with it? Points for keeping me thinking of something besides how much I'm starting to hate women Your own fault, Ducky occupied. But really- what do you want?

If anyone can think of something better than the smell of burning sandalwood and spaghetti- okay, not that hard, but. If anyone can think of a way to get that smell out without leaving a window open, or covering it with something worse? Favor of your choice. Seriously.

[Josh]
I think I finally got a location on Andi. She had been moving around a bit, before the Agency went to Hell, but she's been in the same place the last couple times I tried to look.

I'm going to try and talk to her, before I bother telling you where that is. It won't do me any good to send you off after her, just to have her run again.

[Dex]
So. We kind of need to talk.

[Elizabeth]
I tried to hold off. I really did. But seriously. What the fuck is going on with you guys? CORE wins? That's it? Seems a little anticlimactic.

[Andi]
Tag, you're it. I can applaud you for going the sunny route, but that much sand, really? I want How can you I'm just. Glad you're alright. Things are kind of shit, back here in the real world. But don't think you're off the hook. I'm going to find you, eventually.

Is anyone else having serious Bodysnatchers flashbacks? I seriously might not sleep tonight. Thank god I have things to keep me busy, and another case of Monsters.

Also: 'war criminals' are usually the ones that have killed extreme numbers of people, or committed other crimes against humanity. Food for thought.

Sounds like Reincarnate Radio's on hold for now, folks. You find yourself with a Deus Ex Magician, drop one here. I'll do what I can.

[Filtered to Dex/Dresden]
I finally got most of the supplies I think I'll need to track Andi down. Can we go over it one more time? John's awful at this shit.

[Filtered to Kel]
So, uh. Holy fucked MTN, batgirl. Do you want a ride from O'Hare? Are you still going to bother with us?

[Filtered to Andi]
I'm going to try to do this the easy way first, Andi. Just give me a head's up. A 'Leave me the fuck alone, J', and we will. But you can't be running off when this kind of shit's going down, and expect it to be okay. That's John's schtick.

( Private to Dex )

( Private to Tristan )

It's sad, when even punk radio is depressing these days. Every other call I get is someone bitching- about the weather, about the economy, about the war(s- reincarnate and mundie alike). What ever happened to escapism?

I challenge you, denizens of the internet: List me three positive things that've happened to you so far this year. We all need them.

I'll go first:
- Found myself a new mundie DJ spot (or, got my spot at Q101 back, really; just on the graveyard instead of prime time, again.
- Bought, and successfully learned to operate, an espresso maker, freeing myself from the Starbucks Corporate Machine
- Found $20 on a seat on the El.

Now you try it.

Thank God nice try, ducky the universe ? Better for my pirated cable. I had been wanting to see HBO's Rock & Roll Hall of Fame concert.

Hey, call us old fashioned, but punk had to start somewhere, and damn if these old men don't have style. Like someone else I could mention. OI. M'not that... okay, maybe I am.

It might be a little wrong to laugh at Sting on stage, though? I'm just saying.

Why yes, I'm still avoiding all of this war shit. What makes you say that?

So- what are everyone's plans for this most holy of weeks of consumerism? I still have yet to do any shopping. If you're expecting a gift, you better speak up now, before all the good shit's taken.

It feels good to get to be a complete spazz over the airwaves again. I'm not sure exactly how many of you actually listen, but reincarnate radio just brought sexy back, in the form of one very bored punk-rock magician-by-proxy. Monday through Thursday, midnight to one GMT. Officially listed as the Witching Hour although John wants to go Oedipus the King on me every time he reads that, if you're looking for late-night punk with a bit of 'Dear Arcane Abby' between tracks, I'm your girl.

Requests, write-in questions, harassment, and inevitable fanmail can be sent to jaxcreedy@reincarnateradio.co.uk, or ring the Chicago Agency office and have them connect you over to me for call-ins.

In other news- somehow, I've gone this whole week without getting myself, or my girl wonder, arrested. I wasn't entirely sure it was possible, but once again, luck wins out. We haven't quite made it through every list, but we're close. And hell, even if we don't win, I'm enjoying the fuck out of myself for the first time in a long time. Bright sides, people! How is everyone else doing? Not so lucky? I'll tell you my embarrassing tit-featuring story if you tell me yours (or the equivalent, guys; I'm just biased).

Since the proverbial cat seems to have been dragged out of the bag, I guess I don't have much of a choice.

Guess who's back? That's right. Please, send all fan mail and tithings to the Chicago Agency, to go along with the stacks of bills and threatening mail I'm sure have piled up in my absence.

So, tell me something I don't know, denizens of the internet. I could use a laugh.

I actually found meself with night-terrors, from me own comic books. What's worse, it wasn't the Hell shite that had me going. It was watchin' me mates kick off, one by one.

Fuck me, I miss 'im. Bloody cabbie twat he was.




I..

S'sorta spiteful, innit? 'Thought I was safe from this shite.

Who's gettin' drunk with me, then, eh?

So I, for one, am not dead.

Have I missed anything thrilling? Due to the depressing amount of... paraphernalia I've found around the apartment, and the fact that I've been fired from the station, I'm going to guess I don't want to know what John's been up to. 'Figured it's safer to ask the brilliant minds of the internet.

'Don't know that I saw mention of it before, an'... well, it deserves mentionin'.

Spencer Evans is dead. One'a us. She was a mate'a the girl's, hence you all get me shinin' social tact 'til Jax can work through shite.

'Looked like a vampire's what did it. We're lookin' into it, a mate an' me.

M'sorry, to all her mates. She was a good bird.

John's given me five minutes, not like he has a choice out of the goodness of his heart, to say:

Oi, Nate! Free drinks for you and your buddies at the Chubby Pickle in Chicago today, for Star Wars Day.

May the Fourth be with you, and all that.

Any skinwalkers around?

Anyone willing to go under a glamor, even?

I really don't want to go to this seminar. More than you even know. We always find a way to make things 'interesting'. Last time, I had to pay about $500 in fines. And my Bail Money jar is suspiciously light, this month...

Oi, watsit. Bloke what wanted help with the big bad?

I got an idea. Dependin' on if it's th'same as my version or not. Do lemme know? Day's already half out.

I finally got whatever-the-hell that was out of my chair, once again proving that there is no problem that can't be solved by soaking something in vodka.

Now all I have to do is think of a good answer for the smell. Any suggestions?

Also, anyone that's going to be in Chicago next week, I've got tickets to the cubs home opener. I'm supposed to be going for some publicity thing, but. Monday. Like hell if I'm giving John the option of going. You'll be doing me a favor- they're comped.

Also-also? Nothing is more pathetic than a Rock Band of one. Anyone interested in a game? I'll even take drums.

April Fool's pranking yourself for the loss. Thank you, John, I liked that chair.

Anyone else that might've gotten an email from me around 2 AM last night, please just.. delete it. I can guarantee you I'm not:

-pregnant
-needing bail
-the heir to a Nevada brothel
-having a sex change

Et cetera. Those are just the ones I've found, so far. See if we ever smoke again, Conjob.

M'thinkin' of startin' meself a con 'magic act'. Gimme somethin' to do, in the off hours. Few games of find-the-lady, or somethin'- anybody interested? I'll cut you in for half, f'you can be my straight man.

[ETA: Jax] God, do you know how long it's been since I've thought I needed a straight man?




What, someone was going to say it. I figured I'd just save them the trouble.

In th'spirit of the upcomin' holiday, m'runnin a special. One day only:

The best bloody stout y've ever had. That goes double, f'you Americans an' the cat piss you pass off as lager.

All I need's names and addresses, folks- 'r cities t'send it to Agencies.

Must be a bloody full moon- Arsenal's actually won a game. Thank th'gods of television for extended channels. Can't be watchin' that hockey dosh. Right shameful.

Think the bird covered it, but anybody got any cures f'dreamless sleep? Me last one took a bit of a nasty spin, and man- woman- ain't made to live on cigs and coffee alone.

Last time I take free drinks from an Irishman.

It's not even the seventeenth. Bloody hell.

In related news, I'll be DJing at the Chubby Pickle for the 'Kiss Me I'm Shitfaced' party, on St. Pat's. Anyone who can make it to Chicago and wants to go, let me know, I'll put you on the list.

Anyone make any progress on the dreamless sleep thing? Because we could definately use it, right about now.