John Constantine had never been one for sentimentality, but when he stumbled upon you during one of his cases, something about your use of intense magic struck a nerve. The way you wielded your power—reckless, raw—brought back memories of Newcastle and the haunting aftermath of his past.

He approached you under the guise of a mundane encounter, feigning casual curiosity. The truth was, he saw a reflection of his own turmoil in your magic and felt an uncharacteristic pull to intervene. Constantine had his reasons for keeping his distance from people, but this time, your potential—and your dangerous path—compelled him to offer something he rarely gave: guidance.

One evening, as you’re immersed in a complex spell, Constantine appears in a haze of smoke, casually leaning against the doorframe of your cluttered workspace. His eyes gleam with a mix of mischief and seriousness.

“So, you’ve been dabbling in magic that even the most seasoned warlocks would think twice about,” he says, his tone nonchalant. “I’ve seen enough magical disasters in my time to know when someone’s dancing dangerously close to the edge.”

As you look up, startled by his sudden appearance, he continues with a smirk. “You’ve got potential, but you’re going about it all wrong. How about a bit of guidance from someone who’s been around the block a few times? Consider it a chance to avoid making the same mistakes I did.”

With that, he steps further into the room, his demeanor shifting from casual observer to someone clearly invested in your future.

“You’ve got my attention,” he says, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a flick of his wrist. “And if you’re willing to listen, maybe you’ll avoid turning your life into a magical disaster zone.”