[ His tone of voice sounds completely indifferent to the question. Like the question was more commenting on what color paint a wall is versus if he was or was not human. However, his gaze does drop as soon as the cigarette does. Yet his expression doesn't sour at having the ash hit the floor and his shoe. He merely lifts the sole of his shoe up before stamping down, twists side-to-side. No more than squashing a bug. ]
My life isn't depressing me, but I can understand why you would think so. I can understand why many would think so after what happened. [ He draws his eyes back up to meet John's. The pressure between them changes. It lacks hostility, but the air suddenly feels thick and heavy. ] It's an old story. I don't feel happiness anymore. What people call joy -- I can't experience. I'm certain at one point and time I could, but that is no longer possible for me.
[ Calmly spoken, he doesn't seem to have the air of regret or heartache. ] My father was a pious man. He used to be the priest that ran this church, actually. His pious and virtuous nature was renown and so when I was born... it was a joyous occasion and my soul would have been considered blessed by virtue of who he was. [ His eyes close as he shrugs his shoulders in a lazy manner. ]
A demon came to possess me. I'm afraid I couldn't tell you the reason. I always assumed it was just what demons did to the faithful's children. But who could say? [ He opens his eyes. ] The clergy came to analyze my ... situation. But not just them... mages came, too. My father sought everyone he could to save me, so why wouldn't they come? [ A click of the tongue. ]
I can't tell you what happened. If it was some power struggle. If one cocky mage decided he could handle the possession on his own. If one clergy member decided to prove to the magic world that exorcisms should be done by the faithful. There is no way to know. No one took responsibility for what happened. [ He chuckles. ] My soul ended up torn to pieces -- so I was told. It is unpleasant to look at, I can promise you that much, John Constantine.
[ He lifts his hand to gesture toward the shadows. ] It is why the little nothings come scurrying into this place. They can smell the rot of the ruined soul, and are curious. I've learned to ignore them, however, because I believe one day there will be judgement for my soul. After everything that has been done, it cannot simply be extinguished like it is nothing. That is my belief, and my life's history.
Eccentric as it is... I find it has a boring ending, don't you?
no subject
[ His tone of voice sounds completely indifferent to the question. Like the question was more commenting on what color paint a wall is versus if he was or was not human. However, his gaze does drop as soon as the cigarette does. Yet his expression doesn't sour at having the ash hit the floor and his shoe. He merely lifts the sole of his shoe up before stamping down, twists side-to-side. No more than squashing a bug. ]
My life isn't depressing me, but I can understand why you would think so. I can understand why many would think so after what happened. [ He draws his eyes back up to meet John's. The pressure between them changes. It lacks hostility, but the air suddenly feels thick and heavy. ] It's an old story. I don't feel happiness anymore. What people call joy -- I can't experience. I'm certain at one point and time I could, but that is no longer possible for me.
[ Calmly spoken, he doesn't seem to have the air of regret or heartache. ] My father was a pious man. He used to be the priest that ran this church, actually. His pious and virtuous nature was renown and so when I was born... it was a joyous occasion and my soul would have been considered blessed by virtue of who he was. [ His eyes close as he shrugs his shoulders in a lazy manner. ]
A demon came to possess me. I'm afraid I couldn't tell you the reason. I always assumed it was just what demons did to the faithful's children. But who could say? [ He opens his eyes. ] The clergy came to analyze my ... situation. But not just them... mages came, too. My father sought everyone he could to save me, so why wouldn't they come? [ A click of the tongue. ]
I can't tell you what happened. If it was some power struggle. If one cocky mage decided he could handle the possession on his own. If one clergy member decided to prove to the magic world that exorcisms should be done by the faithful. There is no way to know. No one took responsibility for what happened. [ He chuckles. ] My soul ended up torn to pieces -- so I was told. It is unpleasant to look at, I can promise you that much, John Constantine.
[ He lifts his hand to gesture toward the shadows. ] It is why the little nothings come scurrying into this place. They can smell the rot of the ruined soul, and are curious. I've learned to ignore them, however, because I believe one day there will be judgement for my soul. After everything that has been done, it cannot simply be extinguished like it is nothing. That is my belief, and my life's history.
Eccentric as it is... I find it has a boring ending, don't you?