@kinglcrcan
Since leaving the bottle, the past couple of weeks had been miserable. To be fair, the past couple of centuries weren’t exactly a breeze for the Jinn.
He was free, wasn’t he? He didn’t have to do anyone’s bidding, he could feel the sun hit his face, he could stretch his limbs and... Still... Wildemount was it’s own special level of hell.
Everything was so... different, now. Siraj knew little about where he was. He knew less about whatever the fucking veils that everyone was going on about were. Not to mention he knew nothing about cellphones nor Twitter or any of the many technological advances that we couldn’t dream about living without today.
If he took solace in one thing, it was that no one he knew was around.
That is until this very moment.
And suddenly time stopped, just briefly.
“Fuck me. --” He glanced over his shoulder at the small, quaintness of Wildemount, and then back at Lorcan Ryan. The Lorcan Ryan. Curiouser and curiouser, how he hated how his life was unfolding. Siraj was rusty, no where near prepared for a fight with the fucking King of vampires but he would ready himself just in case. “How much longer does this town have till you burn it to the ground?”
