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"You know, I used to say Robin made me magic, and now I can do it, some of the..." and there's a gesture that indicates looking for the correct word,
"Novelty?" John ventures, because there is no correct word for magic, really, but novelty is close enough.
"Yeah, the novelty has worn off" And the All-Blades dissipate at that moment, slipping through Jason's fingers. The evil defeated.
He stands there, breathlessly, and Constantine watches, almost taken away at how young Red Hood looks here, wonders how everyone is so insistent that the bright eyed child, the starry eyed Robin, was gone.
But here? He sees that Robin perfectly.
He supposes that's what happens to people like him, they have lives that make you want to push people away, makes you miserable or grumpy, or downright cynical to the point people don't like you, or your mind, and possibly both. He knows that most of the attention he gets is because people don’t like him, that his name is taboo in any community he steps in, and he wonders if this little bird is the same.
He had heard echoes of the story of the second Robin, the tapestry painted by the universe, and sees the abrasive nature, the placed anger (whether that anger is misplaced or not is definitely not his call), and everything else that comes with a whack load of trauma that he's sure no one's properly addressed.
But now? He also sees that Robin never went away, not as he looks at Hood, who looks enamoured and in awe of the sight, laughing silently under his breath, a small grin on his face as he watches the light simmer around them, the lights of souls flying into the endless night.
He's lost children before, but he doesn't think this one ever really went away.
"Maybe it's a sign to give up, now that reality has settled in." The young adult says, the words laced with something sour yet contemplative, and John really doesn't know how to communicate outside of soft jokes and unspeakable sadness with whatever he can call 'wisdom'.
The words make him laugh, though, "Mate, it's magic, reality never settles for mystics." He jeers, but he wishes that for once that this was a clever lie, a manipulation, but he can't, knowing how much of his problems can be attributed to the practice of magic, and how much his practice has disrupted and uprooted lives of others. It's a two way street, and one John hasn't quite been able to walk away from.
He also thinks that the All-blades are summoned through the soul, and it speaks volumes that the ever emotional Jason Todd, the Red Hood, that his strongest weapon would be his soul, so it isn't a road that Jason's willing to give up, either.
He doesn't say that out loud, though.
The reply he gets is a snort, if a little resigned, "then the reality I have to settle with is magic?" He proposes, ruffling his hair in an anxious move, and there's something of a wicked grin that plasters itself onto John's face. Clever bastard.
"Exactly, now come on, before Bats thinks I'm a bad influence on you", he drawls, patting Jason's shoulder before setting off in stride, and Jason almost scoffs at his words,
"I assure you, he's probably wondering how we're a bad influence on each other" Hood says, setting off.
John's cackle can be heard echoing in the night.