Homecoming
There's a flash of light, a faint puff of air being displaced, and a quickly fading flash of brimstone. Zachary Zatara is home.
"Initelppa, no eht skcor." The bar at the other end of the living room rattles as a drink mixes itself and then flies to his hand. He tosses his top hat and jacket across the room onto hooks before the drink gets to him. After a long sip, he surveys the rest of the room.
"Honestly, I go away for a few months and you turn the place into a pig-sty." He shakes his head at the dirty laundry and takeout boxes here and there.
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