Character Name: John Constantine
Age: 52
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Powers: Knowledge of spellcraft/ritual magic and low levels of offensive and defensive spells, but nothing too fancy.
Bio: Ask any broken looking person sitting in a pub in England and they will tell you a story about John Constantine; hard luck mage, born and bred Liverpool boy, chain smoking wise-a**, and vicious b*****d to boot. God help you if Constantine comes knocking asking for a favor. Most of what people know about Constantine is known through hearsay (or just plain lies), but the facts are, one night in the 60's, John and a band of misfits tried to expel a Nightmare demon from a nightclub and it went bad. VERY bad. A child died, and Constantine was forever scarred, thus began the myth of John Constantine. Since then he's guided the Swamp Thing to his destiny, tricked The Devil into taking away his terminal lung cancer, snogged Zatanna, and saved the Earth more times than he cares to remember.
Where Constantine goes, hell follows with him.
Extra: "I'm a real piece of work, mate. Ask anybody."
"One day, I was in Westminster in London—this was after we had introduced the character—and I was sitting in a sandwich bar. All of a sudden, up the stairs came John Constantine. He was wearing the trenchcoat, a short cut—he looked—no, he didn't even look exactly like Sting. He looked exactly like John Constantine. He looked at me, stared me straight in the eyes, smiled, nodded almost conspiratorially, and then just walked off around the corner to the other part of the snack bar.
"I sat there and thought, should I go around that corner and see if he is really there, or should I just eat my sandwich and leave? I opted for the latter; I thought it was the safest. I'm not making any claims to anything. I'm just saying that it happened. Strange little story." -Alan Moore, 1993
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