And the beginning of the aftermath of John and Kit’s break up …
plague: One of our characters dealing with the terminal illness of the other
“It’s been what— five years since you last darkened my doorway?” Maggie said with a resigned sort of sigh as she made a rather obviously strained effort to sit up in the nest she’d made of her bed. No luck. She cringed instead, even as she continued to speak flippantly, “Would it killed you to have called and warned a girl first? Pregnancy’s been kicking my ass.”
“Cut the shit, Piglet. This isn’t about the pregnancy,” John retorted sharply without greeting or preamble even as he gestured to indicate her apparent slow bedridden demise. “This is because of the magic you gave up. You’re dying without it.”
There was no chance she could argue when he said it straight out like that. And with no one else in the room— there wasn’t any reason to.
“I think—” Maggie began carefully. “I’m pretty sure I can last long enough to carry the baby to term, at least. That’s the important thing.”
“You could live to raise that baby yourself if you just embraced the magic you were born with again,” John pointed out, firmly but not entirely without sympathy as he moved closer finally, to take a seat on the edge of her bed. “Growing up with dead mothers never did anybody in this family any good.”
“Neither did putting magic before the people you love,” she countered immediately, intently. “I’m giving this family it’s best chance at normal, a whole new start.”
John narrowed his eyes at her. “That husband of yours put you up to this?”
“He has no idea. And you’re not going to tell him either,” Maggie assured him with same certainty and conviction he’d spoken with earlier to diagnose her condition. But that display of her willpower still going strong only served to highlight just how sickly and feeble she appeared physical— gaunt and pale and those once lovely dark eyes all simultaneously clouded and irritated red.
“So, your plan is to just leave your man widowed with a new baby all on their own without giving him any warning or say in the matter?” John asked, in a clear attempt to sway her with her emotions even if she was too damn foolish to be reasoned with.
“They won’t be on their own,” Maggie insisted. “Our son will be as much a Carpenter as he is a Dresden-Rodriguez.”
“It’s a boy?”
Somehow, the news had appeared to surprise John. Maggie couldn’t understand why. He’d known she was pregnant before he randomly showed up here. Common sense should’ve also informed him that the whole biological sex of the child would be a known quantity by now too. But for whatever reason this news seemed to stump him for a while and remained silent for about a minute or so.
Blah. I drew Constantine/Manor again. This time, Leonardo Manco’s style. Sorry.
It’s safe for work, no worries.
REQUEST: John Constantine + smoking (so basically John Constantine xD)“Fuck what you heard. I’m on the side of the angels.”
requested by mydearchevy. (sorry it’s shit, taking images from different artists and different quality scans makes it difficult to be consistent in the style)
Skottie Young sketch we obtained at C2E2. My girlfriends favorite comic since she was a teenager has been Hellblazer and the two of us have fallen in love with Skottie’s work on both Oz and his other Marvel projects, so when we got a chance to meet him I asked him to do his version of a “baby Constantine”. He did not disappoint!!