(Prompt: A genie pirate. So, even after finishing this and reading it over many times, there's still a lot more I can say about these two characters. But it's always good to leave some things unsaid. I really enjoyed the interactions between these two characters, and I hope you all do, too. Welp. That's all I have to say. Enjoy the story!)
A long, savoury drag of a cigarette; the exhale of a smoke cloud floating through the alley. Alamir bit down again on his smoke, nimble fingers exposed by his tattered, beige gloves prodding at a curious object. He'd found it scattered by a pile of rubble and trash, mucky and utterly filthy. The bronze lap sat in his palm, uninteresting. Alamir sighed and put it down, patting the various pockets along his body. Where was the damn thing...there.
He turned out his chest pocket and tore open the plastic package within. Several small fruit candies fell out, some stuck together, and Alamir gingerly glided a finger across them before stopping on a crimson one. He popped it into his mouth and swirled it around his tongue. Cherry. He sprinkled the rest back into the wrapper and put it back into his pocket. Now, back to business.
He stared at the lamp with a dull eye. It was dingy and dented, a pearl necklace wrapped around the thin neck. Not very appealing. Several scratches hugged the bottom, and Alamir feared what putrid sludge might be inside the thing. Chances were it wasn't worth anything at all, even on the richer side of town. The pearls were probably fake, too. What a piece of junk.
Well, it couldn't be helped. Perhaps if he polished it up well enough it would get a fair price - maybe enough for a decent meal if he was lucky. Alamir sighed, taking the corner of his sweat-stained shirt and rubbed a particularly muddy spot. The copper colour gleamed underneath, almost glowing in the moonlight. He smiled, though that smile fell when the lamp started to shake. Um, what? As though water were boiling inside, the lamp trembled in his hands. Alamir quickly tossed the lamp aside, his hands burning and breath catching in his throat as he stumbled backwards. The lamp expanded like a water balloon - it was going to explode! Hot air gushed out the spout, a high pitched tea kettle whistle screeched against his eardrums. Alamir fell on his butt and crushed his hands against his head.
Then, as easily as it had come, the whistle evaporated into...a laugh? A hearty, belly busting guffaw echoed through the alley. It wasn't unlike one you'd hear from a rowdy group in a tavern. But this wasn't a tavern. Alamir was in an alleyway, alone, cleaning a stupid lamp. He had to be going crazy.
"All right! First round's on me, lads!" A booming voice made Alamir's ears ring. He dared himself to look up and felt his mouth deliberately gape when he saw the towering palace of a man before him. The man pounded a hairy fist to his unkempt chest and grinned through slightly crooked teeth. Bare chest, that is. Actually, Alamir couldn't find a trace of clothing on the man at all. Perhaps it was lucky that the lower half of his body, instead of housing a pair of legs, resembled a strange ghostly mist that swirled around the stone floor.
Alamir inhaled sharply; the strange man's beard, a jet black, was braided into three separate strands. Some locks popped out here and there, and he had somehow tied in several pearls, as well. A silver septum piercing jiggled when he swished his head to look at Alamir, beady black eyes like little beetles crawling up his spine. His curled hair was tied back in a loose, low hanging ponytail that draped over his shoulder like an exquisite curtain, and the long scar on his cheek stretched when he gave Alamir a strange, peculiar look.
"And...where is everyone else?" He raised a thick eyebrow. Alamir swallowed and brought himself to a sitting position, still trying to wrap his head around this mess.
"What?" Was what squeaked out of his mouth. Alamir cleared his throat, embarrassed, while the man rolled his eyes and crossed two muscular arms. Hair zigged and zagged across more scars and scabs than Alamir could keep track of. His mind kept wandering from theory to theory, flipping several pages at a time.
"I said," The man's voice snapped him back to reality. "Where's the rest of the gang? Christ, Dan, you said this stop would be a banger. Beer, whores, everything a man can dream of!"
Alamir stood, leaning against the cool stone as his legs attempted to turn to jelly. "I don't know w-who you're talking about, but I don't know no Dan. 'N if I did, he sure as hell couldn't afford a drink, much less a woman."
The man's smile faltered. He shrunk down to Alamir's size and stared intently from eye to eye, nose to chin. His chapped lips parted and Alamir felt the sweat tingle down his neck. He averted his eyes, the only thought pouring through his head being 'Wow.' Why hadn't he rubbed old lamps before?
"You're not him." The man slumped against the wall rather softly. Alamir shifted his gaze back to him; he was running his large fingers through his greasy hair and staring at the ground.
"Who is Dan?" The words slipped out before he could think about them.
"He's -" He stopped himself, suddenly rising. "Who are you? 'N how in blazes did you find my lamp?!" His hair flew out behind him like wildfire as he pinned Alamir to the wall, drawing himself so close that Alamir could smell the rankness of his breath, a mix of stale booze and a pig's behind.
"I - " Alamir started to choke out.
"You must have taken it. Raided our camp through the night! That has to be it...isn't it?!" His bulging arm crushed Alamir's windpipe.
"Look man," Alamir wheezed, using all his power to force the man off of him. He merely doubled back, Alamir left to massage his fragile neck. "I don't know what you're going on about, but I found you, or, the lamp, I guess, in a pile of garbage." The man stood rigid, lips tightly sealed and cold eyes scanning his with mathematical precision.
"Garbage," he stated. Alamir blinked and cleared his throat.
"Garbage," he clarified, before quickly adding, "I mean, there were some pieces of the building next to it stuck in there, but -"
"OH!" The man suddenly wailed. Alamir flinched, shooting glances down the alley. It was a miracle they hadn't attracted a crowd.
"Um..." Alamir approached him. "Are you okay?" He ignored him, instead slumping into what looked like a squat and hung his head, ponytail swishing over his face.
"So, he really did throw me away. A piece of junk like the rest, eh?" He scornfully spat on the ground. "What's a genie got to do around here to be worth something?" Alamir's stomach did a back-flip.
"I'm sorry, you're a what?" The genie gave him a look that could sour milk.
"Get the bugs out your ears, kid. Genie? All magic and powerful? The whole three wishes deal? Christ, I thought we were in bedtime stories. Go ahead, marvel. I'm just so great that I was in the trash."
"So..." Alamir picked up the lamp and brushed off the dust. "Since I released you...I get three wishes? Anything?" The genie sighed and pressed a thumb and finger to his temples.
"Yes," he muttered dully. "Seeing as my last Master tossed me aside after the third wish, sure, let's get a new bloke to do it all over again. Ruin the trust I have in people, why not?
"Uh -"
"Hell, if Dan was fine to just THROW ME AWAY then I might as well submit myself to an eternity of betrayal and hopelessness. I get it. That just comes with the job." He continued to mutter into his hand. Alamir scratched his chin. He didn't exactly imagine that a genie would turn out to be like...well, this.
Alamir looked again at the lamp. Battered, dingy. Who would ever want something as unloved as this? His fingers tightened on the lamp.
"I won't throw you away."
The genie burst into a laugh. "Kid, everyone throws me out once I'm of no use to them. That's what I get for sailing with the wrong lot."
"But even without the wishes, you still have powers. You seem like an upbeat guy, uh, normally." Alamir's brow furrowed. He hadn't taken his eyes off the lamp.
"Don't bother playing nice. You say all this, but just wait. Why should I think you're any different?" The genie glared at him. Alamir collapsed against the wall, slowly dragging himself to the ground.
"My mom threw me away when I was born," he said. "Apparently I was so horrible to look at she dumped me on the street. Been raised by everyone in the slums."
The genie yawned. "I didn't ask for your tragic backstory. Hell, everyone's had it hard. You humans all seem to think that."
"My point," Alamir's mouth twitched. "Is that I've been left in the dump, too. Call it cliche, whatever, I don't care. I can help you. Do you want that help or not?"
The genie scoffed, his beard swaying as he shook his head. "It's not like I have a choice. You'll take me anyway."
"No, I won't." An idea had suddenly sprung into Alamir's mind. He stood; the genie did the same, looking rather confused. "Mr. Genie. You came out of this lamp. It's your home, presumably, and if I take it, then I take you."
"Nice work, genius."
"But," Alamir spoke louder. "It's not mine to take. I go through the garbage, scrounge for anything I can sell or eat because it's not anyone's to begin with. I don't want to be the rotten guy on the street that steals from people that just want to make an honest living. So, I won't steal from you, either." He handed the lamp to the genie, who's expression had shifted to pure bewilderment.
"I apologize that I even took your lamp in the first place," Alamir continued. "I thought it was no one's. My mistake. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to hit the other end of town before the sun's up." He straightened himself, and without a second thought, walked out of the alley.
His mind screamed at him. You idiot! Did you really just throw away three wishes? A way out of this hellish lifestyle? You could've had riches beyond your wildest dreams! Alamir took a deep breath. His mind went silent. It was the right thing to do.
"Oi!" A booming voice followed him. Alamir kept walking.
The genie glided beside him, lamp in hand. "Whad'ya think you're doing?"
"Getting back to business, I guess."
"You can't just hand me my lamp and be done with it! Like it or not, the moment you rubbed this thing, you made a contract." Alamir fumbled inside his pocket for a moment, pulling out the fruit candies again.
"Why don't you take my wishes, then?"
"Can't. Even genies have restrictions." Alamir popped a blue raspberry one into his mouth and swiveled it around.
"What happened to being all-powerful?" The genie halted. He shook his head and caught up with Alamir.
"Shut yer mouth. Don't you want riches? Fame, love? None of it?"
Alamir stopped. Looked the genie in the eyes.
"Of course. But if I think about it from your point of view, having those wishes feels a lot like stealing. I said it before and I'll say it again - I won't steal from you, genie or not."
The genie looked at him for a good moment before spouting a large grin. He extended a bulky arm and motioned for Alamir to shake. He did.
"The name's Ivor, kid. You got spunk. Something I ain't ever seen before. You may just be stupid, but what say I stick around for a while, seeing as I have nowhere else to go?"
"You just want someone to lug you around, don't you?" Ivor hit him on the head. Alamir massaged the bump and smiled. "Let's make a deal. I'll provide the real estate if you forget about giving me any wishes. Deal?" Alamir picked up a peridot green candy and offered it to him. Ivor mediated on it for a moment.
"Is that green apple?" he finally asked. Alamir shrugged. Ivor took the candy and chomped it into fine little pieces within seconds. He hummed and hawed, licking his lips.
"Green apple," he said, chuckling. He squeezed Alamir's hand firmly. "Deal."
ns 15.158.61.20da2
