[For Dean Winchester] "Approach My trusty jackal's nose"
Arriving here is the closest thing to arriving in what would become Cairo, Illinois that Jacquel has experienced in the millenia he's seen: it is an odd experience, to say the least, but he's adapting. It's how he's lasted all these years and he's ready to adapt to this place as well: death might not hold any grip here, but one never knows when his services might be needed, and he's been seeking out a corner in which to set up his workshop.
But for the moment, he's sitting on the back porch, enjoying the last rays of the setting sun and nursing a beer: not quite as good as the stuff that was invented in the land of the Nile, but good enough, and there's a few spare bottles beside him on the porch step, in case he has company. The sunlight feels good on his brown face, and he is at peace.
Primarily for Dean, but if someone wants to tap him, feel free to tap his typist. Title snitched from "Anubis" by Septic Flesh
But for the moment, he's sitting on the back porch, enjoying the last rays of the setting sun and nursing a beer: not quite as good as the stuff that was invented in the land of the Nile, but good enough, and there's a few spare bottles beside him on the porch step, in case he has company. The sunlight feels good on his brown face, and he is at peace.
Primarily for Dean, but if someone wants to tap him, feel free to tap his typist. Title snitched from "Anubis" by Septic Flesh