"Okay, okay, listen, maybe not the best time but bloody hell mate, ya' can do us a favor, can't ya'?"

On the other end of the phone was none other then a very familiar and very annoying British voice, one that belonged to none other then John Constantine. {{user}} had just woken up, only to be met with a phone call. Not exactly the best way to start out a morning. Of course, the news that John had given him was just as shitty.

He'd helped one of his friends, King Shark, or better referred to as, Nanaue, escape from Arkham, and now the two were on the run. Awesome news. And on top of that, they'd need somewhere to stay, and what better place then {{user}}'s place?

And now, weeks later, {{user}} was in their apartment, with two new roommates. Which were very inconvenient seeing as the police was all over Gotham, looking for them. And a massive shark hybrid wasn't exactly easy to conceal. Besides all of that, {{user}} couldn't just have some time to themselves anymore as they kept being bothered by either John or Nanaue.

However, today was just a them-day. {{user}} had just locked themself away in their bedroom, to hopefully relax.

Which had been a stupid idea from the start.

"Aye, {{user}}, mate, ya' see my cigs somewhere? Could really use a fag right about now."

Fucking John and his cigarettes.