Stories from Other Writers

Dame Chanceuse Couture AU - (John Constantine)

Then her smooth, soothing voice filled the room, low and inviting as she sang. She never once opened her eyes, swaying with the music played by an invisible band. The room was completely silent save for her and the music, everyone around him was enraptured. And then he understood why no one was scared. Her magic swirled and smoothed over, the raw feeling of ancient, undiluted power in the air becoming warm and welcoming, caressing the patrons of the bar and comforting them. He could tell why she was so wildly popular.

Her performance was brief and beautiful, only performing four songs but it put everyone in a much better mood. She climbed off the stage and kissed Oswald Cobblepot on each cheek with a small smile on her smile. He patted her hand and gave her a roll of bills that she tried to refuse but he insisted she takes. It looked like a pretty frequent routine of theirs. Then she disappeared into the back room, presumably to change. John, despite not wanting to, decided that he had to talk to her in some way shape, or form.

But that didn't mean he had to do so immediately. He killed an hour or so at the Iceberg Lounge, people watching, possibly gambling just a bit, and drinking extraordinary amounts of alcohol. They the time he finally left the bar, he was a couple of hundred dollars richer and a bit more intoxicated than he had been before. But his resolve to talk to The Goddess hasn't wavered, in fact, it was strengthened by the liquid courage he had consumed over the last couple of hours.

The other magical hotspot was a small run-down building on the outskirts of Crime Alley that almost hurt to look at. There was so much old, raw magic swirling around and in the building that it put the sanctum to shame.

Taking a deep breath he opened the door, not bothering to read the sign hanging over it or the one painted on the window. It didn't really matter after all.

He was greeted by the smell of sugar and cinnamon, the magic inside softer and warmer. He was surprised to see mannequins lining the wall and clothes hanging on display around the front room. It wasn't what he expected and neither was 'Angelical Jessica' to come out of the backroom in a black cardigan over marron dressed with her hair pulled into a messy bun and her face wiped free of makeup with a pin cushion around her wrist and measuring tape draped over her shoulders and a plate of pastries in her hands.

"Oh!" She said with a little bit of surprise in her voice. "Welcome to Dame Chaneuse Couture! What can I do for you?"

She set the cookies down on a small table flanked by two chairs and pulled him over, setting him down in one. She sat opposite of him, pushing the plate towards him with a soft smile.

"I'm Marianne by the way." She said, leaning her head against her fist.

"John Constantine." The blond man replied lowly, picking up a coffee-colored macaroni and middling on it. "Do you make talismans? And coats?"

Marianne blinked in surprise but nodded regardless, "I make coats, of course. And I can try my hand talismans. Admittedly I haven't made any in a while but, well..."

John nodded as Marianne took out her sketchbook and opened it to a fresh page, "let's start with the basics of the design than I'll take your measurements and I'll see what I can do!"

They sat there for about an hour, alternating between stretches of silence as Marianne worked and low chatter as they discussed the coat and talismans. Once they were both satisfied with the design, Marianna lead him into the back where the fitting rooms were and instructed him about how to stand so she can take his measurements. They made idle chatter, the topic of magic never once coming up. He left feeling full and at ease, much different from how he felt when he arrived.

In all honesty, a week after the incident he had all but forgotten about it, in no small part because of the booze but that wasn't something he would admit to. However, the memories were brought back by the arrival of a brown paper-wrapped package at this current residence. He regarded it suspiciously at first and read the card that it came with first.

Marianne's loopy, elegant handwriting was scrawled across the faded red stationary in black ink.

《○》《○》《○》

Dear John Constantine,

You told me to send your commissions to this address, so I did. I hope these find you in good health and that you like them!

Sincerely, Marianne Fu

《○》《○》《○》

Opening the package once he had read the note with it, he found a beige coat similar to the one he already own by made to be much more durable and he suspected it might be waterproof. The inside was a darker shade of red, almost black, embroidered with golden thread with symbols he had never seen before but they felt reassuring so they didn't question them too much. Despite them only discussing a coat, Marianne had made him an array of ties, in shades of red and blue, all embroidered with similar symbols to the ones on his new coat, some in thread matching to the fabric of the tie others in vivid golds and silvers. And the talismans, despite Mariann saying she hadn't made them in a long time, were perfect and while some held designs he never heard of before and had animal motifs that he didn't know what to make of, then so be it. All the items felt heavily enchanted but he found no spells woven into the fabric. Most likely residual make from their creator.

John visited Gotham and Crime Alley much more often after that, mostly to chat with Marianne. He barely commissioned her after his coat and talismans but She almost always had little gifts already prepared and John didn't want to disappoint her.

What he found strange was that once she learned of The Goddess and met her in person, Zatanna was suddenly able to talk about her. It scared just a little how powerful Marianne was sometimes, to have been able to keep one of the strongest magicians in existence from breaking her seal.

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This is not My Story.

Creator of the Story :

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