phenominal power, itty bitty living space.

☀︎ siraj ; djinn ; 2,000 years is a long fucking time. ☀︎

[xxsirajxx]

So, how many people have sung genie in a bottle to you?

“I had to look up the song. So none? More often I’m mistaken for a Robin Williams who I now understand was an actor playing a jinn. From what I’ve gathered so far, you people think jinn are either some sort of sexual fantasy or witty performers who sing to entertain children and, for some reason, owe you three wishes. No in between. That’s odd, right? I cannot be the only one who thinks that’s bizarre.”

[xxsirajxx]

what more could you possibly want?

what more could you possibly want?

[xxsirajxx]

ivylloyd‌:

“Kashmir,” she echoed with a whimsical smile, trying to call up what little knowledge she had on the location. “I’ve always wanted to travel to India. It’s been on my list for ages, but it seems I still haven’t gotten around to it.” What little tension she’d held in her shoulders had relaxed, softened until she felt as comfortable as she would around someone she’d known for years. “I really love experiencing new things. New places. Meeting new people. We’ve only got a finite amount of time, you know?” There was a knowing twinkle in her eye, but that was as hard as she’d push. For now. 

“Holy crap, for a second I thought you were being serious!” Her hands rushed to cup her cheeks, which were hot with momentary embarrassment. “I think I just had a heart attack. I was about to absolutely grovel for forgiveness.” His proximity made it easy to nudge him with her elbow. “I actually teach environmental science. Not a historian, I know.” She raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m actually quite an idiot when it comes to history. I just genuinely don’t have the brain for it. It’s… overwhelming. I can understand the big picture and I can understand the details but I can’t put them together. The chronology of it just gets lost. And the geography too. I commend you for it, truly.” 

Their hands met in a firm shake as she popped the joint between her grinning lips. “Siraj,” she tested the name, tasting it and listening to it ring out against the night. “That’s a good name. Strong. Commanding. Magnetic. Like there’s a spotlight shining on you. Or some kind of lamp.” 

There was something whimsical about this woman, wasn’t there? It was almost enough for Siraj to skillfully craft walls around himself. Almost. Her charm kept him there. And for a moment, that star-y eyed look shown on his own face, “It is beautiful. Jaisalmer, Kerala... Granted I,” stopping himself from drifting too far into his memories, “-- I haven’t been back in a long time.” He glanced at her, before looking skywards again, “You should do all of those things while you can. I think I took the freedom to just,” He motioned in front of him, “-- go for granted at one point. And now I don’t know what to do with all the possibilities.”

Sitting up straight at her exclamation, he feigned a wince at her nudge, “Sorry! Careful! You almost took my arm off.” He waved a hand, “A photographic memory helps. I know enough, but little, about the ecosystems of the landscapes I study so we’re even.”Hundreds of years to study helped too.

 A small shiver ran down his spine when she said his name. Siraj was literally magic an there was something so curious about this interaction that he couldn’t place, like Ivy twirled right out of a story book. He almost didn’t know what to say, refraining from rambling about how Siraj did in fact mean light, sometimes used to refer to the sun in the Quran not that he was religious or anything... stop.  “I think Ivy is good name too. It suits you. Charming. Vibrant... Maybe a little bit mischievous.” He raided his brows, waiting for her confirmation, “...I’ve, uh, actually been reading some of Vandana Shiva’s work... It’s not really my area of expertise as you know but I spend a lot of time in the library, which... You know, now that I say it out loud it sounds a bit lame.”

[xxsirajxx]

ivylloyd‌:

The places you can go when you just pretend like you belong… The quirky outfit may have helped too. In a long, flowing skirt and a patterned top that should have clashed but somehow didn’t, she fit right in with the eccentric historian types. No one looked twice when she slipped through the museum and up to the roof. 

“So this must seem like nothing,” she mused, holding a bare hand out, opening and closing her fist, twisting it this way and that as if to test the air. “Is that where you’re from? Ladakh?” For the first time since he’d joined her on the roof, she turned to face him. She had gotten a sense of him with her back turned but visual clues were important when it came to her intuition. Unlike many of the creatures roaming around town, when facing him, her energy didn’t shy away. She didn’t know much about him, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they got along well, though she had a feeling he ran a little hotter than she did. Something in his aura spoke to some sort of anger or resentment. She wondered exactly what he was. Supernatural, no doubt, but she couldn’t tell much beyond that. 

“Yeah, I actually was here earlier. I do hope we weren’t being too loud. Not a very big class but I can get a bit carried away and I forget that museums are supposed to be… you know. Quiet. Field trips are important though, don’t you think? If it were up to me the whole course would be experiential learning but I could only get the curriculum approved with an element of traditional, lecture-based crap. I guess that’s important too. You know, after they care about the subject. I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Ivy.” She thrust a hand his way for a shake, using the other to pluck the joint from his fingers and pop it between her lips with a wink. 

Belonging. Siraj had always struggled with the concept. At least at the museum his coworkers chalked up his occasional misunderstanding about slang to English being his second language, even if he spoke beautifully albeit an accent and speech pattern that sounded off even to the few Urdu speakers at the institution. Siraj was multi-lingual, had a fabulous memory and vast understanding of various cultures, histories and belief systems... but no live references. His involuntary ‘eclectic historian’ aesthetic only aided in him acquiring the job.

A light laugh, “It’s definitely more manageable.” The question was followed by a brief pause. He always had to remind himself that borders and names of places he had once known had changed, “No -- Well, yes. Kashmir, specifically.” When their eyes met he felt an ease about her, a calm. Warm, sure, but not hot like he felt. There was no rage. Siraj figured he had enough for both of them.

“You were terrible.” He teased, voice low, “I thought I’d need to throw you out at one point.” A small smile, just in case she had any doubts about his sarcasm, “No. You were perfect. I was just happy to have people down in the archives. I don’t get many visitors.” Sometimes, Siraj almost felt like he was trapped back in the bottle down there. He propped his chin up with his hand as he listened, shaking hers when it was offered. “What is it that you teach exactly?” The wink forced a half-smile to his face,  “Siraj. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ivy. Even if in an... unconventional way.”

[xxsirajxx]

octaviadrake‌:

“Oh, me? I’m just your navigator.” She said, waving her hand in the air humbly. “This is all you.” She said, which was true. She knew Siraj was capable of catching up on his own, and so she tried to give him as little help as possible, just giving him the necessary tools. Hearing his compliment, her smile spread, flattered. “Oh, I didn’t put a song.” She stated. “I just kept it old school, plus what if people really like the song so they just call me to play it?” She asked, her tone joking. He was right, he did always get back to her, even if it took forever. “You’re right. I should know better by now.” She corrected herself with a light chuckle, taking another sip from her drink. 

As he nudged her hand, she turned her body towards him as he asked his question. Biting down gently on her bottom lip, she held it there for a moment before shrugging. “Just… the meaning of existence.” She said, her previous smile fading, leaving only a hint of it on her lips. “You know, existential crisis.” Even though her tone was light, the topic always did trouble her. “You ever wonder about that kind of stuff?”

"A ship without a navigator is just sitting at the dock.” He mused, he knew he could have figured all of this out eventually, but it would have taken much longer. Siraj was... fairly adverse to change. The idea of picking up a cell phone wouldn’t have occurred to him for years wiht out Octavia, stubborn old man that he was. He smiled, settling into his seat, resting his chin in his hand to keep his head propped up as he listened, “I highly doubt anyone wouldn’t want to talk to you. It’d just be an added bonus to calling.” Siraj was notorious for sending Octavia low quality photos of things he thought she’d like. Mind, she was one of the few people in his phone but the only one in his favorites.

How she bit down on her lip worried him, tilting his head to the side in concern, “That’s a lot to think about on a Monday night.” He paused, “...Sometimes. Yes I do --” noticing she had finished her drink he waved the bar tender down to pay, “You want to get out of here? It’s a nice night. I think talk of existential crisis lend themselves to walks better than sitting at the bar anyway.” He held out his hand to help her off of the stool, holding the door open for her, “What’s got you thinking about these things?”

[jennifcrs]

“Gorgeous night… You can feel winter in the air.” Her voice was dreamy, invisible stars reflecting in her eyes as she gazed into the night, seeing right through the light pollution that diluted the sky and into a world beyond. Or perhaps it was just the weed. “I love December. I mean, it’s no spring, but it’s a different winter than January or February. It’s… clear and it’s… it’s hopeful and it breathes a promise for a fresh start, you know?” She took a deep pull from the joint, her lips tugging into a lazy smile. “Want some?” @veilsstarters​

[xxsirajxx]

Siraj didn’t know when or why or how this woman was on the roof of the history museum but he couldn’t say much. He didn’t exactly have an actual reason to be up there either. Lately, he’d been coming up to the roof to think and stare out at the vastness of space. He had spent so much time with so little room that the world seemed almost... too big now.  At least he worked there, and therefore had some leniency when it came to being existential on the top of the museum.

He could be a hard ass and tell her to leave... But... When he approached and she offered Siraj realized how much he needed... this. Even if this woman was a witch. He feel the magic radiating off of her.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He sat beside her, taking a long drag from the joint, “...In Ladakh, the desert temperature can reach well below freezing. Starting in October, lasting till Spring.” He watched the smoke dissipate towards the sky, “I remember you, you brought your students into the archives this morning.”

[xxsirajxx]

nctgold‌:

“I’m… not?” Lorcan frowned at the dijinn in front of him. “Lyall is doing fantastic now we’re near her family.” Not that Lorcan had to go into detail but eh. 

“I don’t just suddenly care what humans think, it’s about them being more savvy to vampires now and that means less humans to feed on.” Lorcan tried to explain the whole thing. “Character development? It’s moving with the times before we die out as a species.” 

Siraj was having a... difficult time following this conversation. It all seemed so absurd. “That’s... Good? I guess I should apologize, this is all just very,” He motioned with his hands ambiguously, “New. And strange.”He paused, “...I shouldn’t be surprised. They seem to be more aware of a lot of things. Which isn’t exactly brilliant for us.” It was why he had been trapped for so long after all, humans... 

Since Siraj seemingly had nothing to lose with this conversation, he figured he’d use Lorcan for some more information, “The person who...” released me. He cut himself off, “-- I’ve been told, multiple times, about a jinn called Robin Williams. Do you have any idea who he is?”

[xxsirajxx]

octaviadrake‌:

Hearing Siraj’s greeting, Octavia snapped out of her thoughts and turned her attention to him, returning his bright smile with a grin of her own. “Hey.” She returned. It was nice having him around, his presence always made her feel lighter. And she always thought that his unfamiliarity with technology was quite entertaining. As he spoke about his cellular device, she listened to him rave about the ringtones, a breathy laugh escaping her lips. “Look at you, getting the hang of this huh?” She said, her tone light, clearly impressed. It’s taken him a while, but then again, it is a lot to catch up on. Listening to the tone he played, she nodded, “good choice. I like that one myself.” She admitted. “You know, back in the day, probably even now too but it’s not as common, but when you would call someone… instead of hearing the dial tone you could replace it with music.” She pointed out. “Any song you wanted, too.” She mused as she leaned her elbow on the bar in front of her. “I wasn’t sure if you would see the message, if I’m being honest. So, I’m proud. Here, take a seat.” She said pulling out the stool next to her for him.

There it was: Octavia’s smile. It seemed like more and more seeing her happy was what Siraj was always after. He spent so much time alone, and when he wasn’t alone it was surrounded by people who didn’t respect him or literally enslaved him. Octavia was different. She was kind and clever and so patient with him. “Well, I’m learning from the best, aren’t I? -- It sounds very celestial and smart. Which is why I chose it for you.” Leaning his elbow against the bar he propped his chin up in his hand, “Oh? And what song did you put for your dial tone? I don’t think I know enough modern music to do that yet.” He feigned insult at her confession, “Oh ye of little faith! I hardly ever don’t get right back to your messages. I always see them, it just takes me 10 years to type out the response.”

After a moment, he nudged her hand gently with his own, “...What was wrong when I first came in? You looked deep in thought.”

[aerajecng]

@xxsirajxx​

Octavia sat at the bar, drinking her gin and tonic. She had texted Siraj to go join her and frankly enough she wasn’t even sure if he would see the text, she knew technology wasn’t his strong suit. Part of it was her trying to get him used to technology, after it technology had a strong presence in the modern world. She had known Siraj for a few months now, he was one of the people who she considered as a friend in the past few months she had been in Wildemount. Taking a swig from her drink, she let her mind wander to various different thoughts, until she let her thoughts leave her completely, thinking of nothing. After all, her thoughts weren’t pleasant and she didn’t feel like sitting in a bar being miserable for no good reason.

[xxsirajxx]

Slowly but surely Siraj was learning his new phone. Very, very slowly. He was thankful Octavia was always so patient with him, and he tired to make it up to her where he could. For example, he’d refuse to let her pay for her drinks tonight. It was the little things that he did to say ‘thank you.’ 

When he received the message from his roommate he immediately stopped what he was doing at the archives in the museum and made his way to the bar. Siraj had no real concept of what taking a break meant; work tended to end when Octavia nagged him to come home or to the bar. Speaking of, at least one of them was in good spirits tonight.

“Hey.” His smile was bright, placing a hand against her shoulder blade in greeting, “I got your messages on my cellular device. I was able to assign the music that plays when you call for me today. I picked this one for now,” It took him a moment, but eventually he was able to play her the demo of the ringtone, “-- There are so many in here. It’s such an intelligent little machine!”

[xxsirajxx]

kinglcrcan‌:

“Ahh you see, Siraj, it’s called a life time of experience. My wife wanted to move here, so we did. Simple as that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Just do me a huge favour and do not out me as an Original Vampire, yeah? Humans have become more savvy to my type thanks to pop culture and the ramblings of a drunk Irishman.” 

Siraj held up a hand to stop the vampire, “Don’t. Patronize me, Lorcan.” then examined the man in front of him. Almost as if he wasn’t convinced,“Ah, yes. Lyall. So she’s doing well.” Siraj always liked her more than Lorcan in all honesty -- What was happening? It wasn’t like they were old university buddies catching up. Lorcan was a vampire king, and a dangerous one at that, and Siraj?  Despite being contained for quite some time, Siraj had enough power that combined with Lorcan’s they could tear this sweet little town apart.

He crossed his arms, both reference to pop culture and ‘a drunken Irishman’ obviously going over his head, “So you... moved here and suddenly care about what humans think of you?” He understood, humans were, by far, the worst, but it didn’t seem like Lorcan to pay them any mind. “I suppose that’s character development.”

[xxsirajxx]

hcrdkncks‌:

God, this guy knew how to ramble. José gave him a break, however, due to the fact that it’d been so long since Siraj had had anyone with whom he could speak. –It must’ve been lonely in there. José ran a thumb across the smooth glass behind his back, realizing just how dangerous the other saw what he himself only viewed as a harmless little thing. José’s curiosity was piqued now, and he moved to a plastic folding chair nearby and sat down, still holding the bottle. “José,” he answered. “Hailing from California.” His tone had taking on that teasing layer again, and he winked.

“Now why would somebody put a jinn in a bottle?” he asked, tilting his head. “Shove you in a bottle ‘cause they’re scared of you or somethin’? You don’t seem too scary to me.”

José turned the bottle absentmindedly in his palms, looking down at it. “Listen, I’m not vindictive or nothing, but… I barely know you, right? So if I go smashing this bottle and then you go batshit on me, I’m fucked and it’s my own fault. This bottle… is keepin’ me all fine and dandy, yeah? For now. And I don’t want your ass indebted to me, that shit sounds freaky. I’m just… curious. Say I smash the bottle – what then?”

Siraj spent a lot of time muttering to himself, give him a break José. It took everything in his power to keep from groaning at the wink, “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” Watching the man sit, he accepted the fact they would be here for some time. So Siraj sat as well, cross legged ontop a table across from José.

“Why do you humans put each other in jail? Sometimes it’s justified. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes people just want something to do their bidding. Or a interesting relic to show at dinner parties. Like I’m some sort of parlor trick...” crossing his arms, “I don’t exactly go out of my way to be frightening when I don’t absolutely need to be.”

A pause, watching José examine the container. He narrowed his eyes, “If I could or wanted to go ‘batshit’ on you I would have the moment you let me out.” The idea that José didn’t want anything in return was almost difficult for Siraj to comprehend, or trust, “Take care of the bottle and that’s it. I leave you alone.” He held up his wrists, showing off the worn metal cuffs he wore, “I can’t exactly go very far right now.”

[xxsirajxx]

kinglcrcan‌:

Lorcan had been minding his own business and paying for a sack of potatoes from a local farmer who had a stall set up in the town centre when he turned and spotted Siraj just standing there after all this centuries. 

First, he thanked the farmer then put the sack over his shoulder, approaching the Dijinn. “Actually, if I wanted to burn it down, it would’ve been in ashes by now. Where the fuck have you been? Last time I saw you, you were hiding behind your parents legs while we tried to make a trade deal.” 

The simple fact that this man thanked the vendor shocked Siraj to the point of wondering if he was awake.

“Ah, right, I was ‘hiding’ and you were sat on a throne of broken bones and the tears of innocents. And now you’re...” He motioned to the sack, “-- Purchasing root vegetables in a quaint little english town. What’s next on your shopping list? Pansies?” He refrained from asking about his parents, was it cruel of him that he... didn’t want or care to know? “Where I’ve been is of little importance. Why you’re here and there are no screaming children is what I’m interested in learning.” 

[xxsirajxx]

xxvidi‌:

Noelle chuckled and shook her head. She waited for the bartender to leave before she turned her attention to the man who sat next to her. “You see the bartender. He’s about to ask me for the third time if I want to see his thigh piece.” She nodded towards him. Noelle took a sip of her own drink and shrugged. “Now, let’s go back to what you said about me being beautiful.” She replied, batting her eyelashes. “Tell me more about that.” 

The chuckle brought a small smile to his lips, carefully eyeing the bartender’s back as the woman explained, “Mm. I see. So he’s definitely a creep then.” Those slang books he picked up from the library were really helping him out now. Thank goodness for an excellent memory. How else was he meant to hold conversation with this obviously modern and probably human woman at the bar. He next comment forced a laugh from him, “Right, of course, the most important matter at hand: how you light up the room.” It wasn’t a lie, and in all honesty, Siraj was happy to chat with this woman and keep the sleazy bartender away rather than drink alone. He took the drink when it was set in front of him, turning slightly to cut the bartender out of their conversation and face the stranger directly, “I can go on. My one condition is that you tell me your name. I think that’s a fair trade off, don’t you?”

[misread90]

[wynonna-waverly]

[xxsirajxx]

@kinglcrcan

[witchywylie-blog]

@veilsstarters​

Something about a library’s calming aura had always felt like home to Clover Wylie. 

Wildemount’s was no different. Today they occupied themselves in every way possible as an employee of a library – shelving and reshelving books, dusting windows and tables – all the while attempting to keep their busy bee mind off their thoughts and the tingling sensation in their fingers that was a telltale sign of a premonition about to come through sooner or later.

They were just about to sit down with a mug of warm black tea with honey to take a breather from the nonstop work when somebody’s presence just behind them was made clear with a tap on the shoulder, making Clover jump up in surprise with a gasp, spilling the majority of the cup’s contents on both themselves and the person in question. 

“Oh, Christ, I’m so sorry!” 

[xxsirajxx]

Technically, Siraj should be upset about hot tea down his front. But everything has been so bizarre lately, so upsetting and frustrating, that a bit of water was nothing in comparison. 

He held his own books out of the way from the splash zone, some books on the past couple of decades to study and (much to his surprise) the few Puranas the place had to offer. He managed to find some modern day clothes from the donation boxes José had been sifting through but they were old and, frankly, not Siraj’s style. He wasn’t particularly upset about them getting wet.

 The soft laugh even surprised himself, “No, no, it’s really alright. Are you ok? No burns?” He tossed his books down on the closest table, finding a box of tissue and handing a couple to the stranger, “-- I apologize for laughing, it’s been one of those weeks. Maybe I’m finally losing my mind.” He paused, holding a fallen book he had wanted to return to their cart, “You dropped this.” 

[xxsirajxx]

hcrdkncks‌:

It was truly stupid how much José was enjoying this entire thing – he was still grinning as the other man shoved him into the boxes. Maybe it was a reckless lack of self-preservation that was creating this mild sense of joy in pissing off an old, probably incredibly powerful being, but he was having fun nonetheless. There wasn’t time for José to answer any of the questions he was being asked because before he even had time to open his mouth to say anything, the other man was making some comment or asking another question. “Sounds like someone needs to ask Santa Claus for a watch,” he taunted. As José moved to shove the other away, he stepped back, and José’s hands mostly missed him as he muttered, “Get the fuck off me,” under his breath.

“It’s twenty-nineteen and boy have we got some fuckin’ news to catch you up on.”

A myth? José frowned and shrugged, holding up the bottle as if he were about to open it again. “Well, in that case…” After a moment, he lowered the bottle again and then moved to hold it behind his back. “You’re not nearly as fun as Robin Williams, bro,” he informed the other as he watched him storm around the basement and watched as his gaze flickered around, continually landing back on him. “How long’s it been since you’ve stretched your legs?”

Siraj was pushing against one of the walls of the basement, eyes scanning over boxes filled with old, discarded donations. It could have been worse. And yet, tossed in a box somewhere to be forgotten isn’t exactly a confidence boost. It was the date that pulled him through his thoughts.

“...What?” Turning to face the man again, disbelief painting his feature, “Twenty-nineteen?” He was running his hands through his hair as the gravity of just how long he’d been stuck set in on him when the stranger spoke again. That bottle might as well had been a loaded gun.

And just like that, Siraj was gone again. But still in the room.

"I've never heard of a jinn named Robin Williams. My name is Siraj, I hail from Kashmir.” He spoke from this corner or that, keeping himself hidden, “...Longer than you’ve been alive. Or your mother’s been alive. Or your mother’s mother. At least a thousand years... What is your name?” There was silence for a moment, and a very real chance that Siraj had left. Until he appeared, one final time a safe distance away, “Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement. Hm?” He raised his brows, holding up his hands in surrender, “You break that bottle. Right now.” He motioned to the ground, “And I’ll... It’s not a wish, I can’t do wishes, but I’ll be indebted to you. -- For a time.” The word indebted tasted awful in his mouth but at least it wasn’t servitude and the prison he had learn to call home would be gone forever, “Do we have a deal?”