Jeannie (i_blink) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2008-03-25 02:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | jeannie, spike, zz:status complete |
Unplugged (narrative/open)
The purplish bottle bobbed on the surface of the water, the crystal stopper in the top glinting in the sunlight. Caught in the wake of a small trawler, the bobbing became tossing as the bottle rose and fell in the violent ripples created by the passing of the boat. It was bouncing enough that the stopper should have fallen out from the movement alone. Should have. But it did not. It stayed in place as though stuck with glue. And from inside, there were tiny squeaks and shrieks of irritation.
Which was understandable, as each toss and buck of the bottle threw it about, the occupant inside was jostled as well. There was only so much to hold onto inside the container, and though most of it was padded, there were a couple of hard objects to bang a head into. As she found out on a particularly dramatic drop. The string of curses that fell from her lips would have been enough to make anyone blush, even if they did not understand the language in which they were uttered. If they did, they would probably cover their ears and look at her in horror. People should not say such things about Hajji, Chief of all Genies, without expecting to have some sort of retribution enacted.
Jeannie was angry enough that she did not care. Well, she did not care in that moment. But as soon as her own voice reached her ears, her hands were clapped over her mouth as though to stop it from running away with her. That had been very unwise, and she was immediately sorry for what she had said. Looking upwards, towards the top of the bottle, she whispered an apology that she hoped would pacify. As if her situation was not bad enough, she certainly did not need Hajji to add punishment on top of it.
On top of abandonment.
In a fit of depression, Jeannie flopped down onto the couch that curved along the wall of the bottle and simply held on as it pitched and rolled. It would make her sick if it continued for too long, but that was still preferable to hitting her head on something else. That had hurt! But the throb of her head was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
She was alone.
Again.
Her eyes automatically lifted to the makeshift calendar on the wall. It was important, she had learned, to keep track of time when you were trapped. Last time she had been in here for approximately 2000 years. Though she was pretty sure she had lost a century somewhere along the way. Possibly because she had not started keeping an account of passing days when she had first been trapped by the Blue Djinn. This time, after the first week had passed, she had started counting.
Thirty one years, seven months, two weeks and three days. That was how long she had been stuck in the bottle. How long it had been since she last saw Major Anthony Nelson. She had kissed him good-bye before he went to work; despite his protests that he did not like it she knew that he did. Then she had returned to her bottle, and somehow, the stopper had been put in and she had been trapped. For a time, she suspected that her twin sister, always a bit of a troublemaker, had done it. Though there had been the chance that it had just been happenstance; Roger could have dropped by and done it by accident. But she had been certain that her master darling would let her out. So certain. When he had not, the worry began. By now, she was convinced that something had to have happened to him. He would not have left her to be lost in the bottle this way, he just would not!
Right now, Jeannie had no idea where she was or where she had been, only how long she had been inside the bottle. Though she was clever enough to deduce that she was in the water from the way the vessel was moving. She rather hated being in the water. Too much motion, and too little chance to be found. And too many reminders of how she had met Tony.
But her musings were brought to an abrupt halt as everything inside the bottle suddenly and radically moved to the left. Including Jeannie. Everything was thrown into chaos as the bottle struck something in the water. Then struck again. At this point, Jeannie decided her best course of action was to sit on the floor, since standing only resulted in her falling again. She held on to the cushioned couch as she sat there, only trying to keep from being thrown about too much, waiting for the bottle to stop moving.
And then, something utterly extraordinary happened.
Extraordinary and rather wet.
As she gripped the pillows of her couch tightly, a bright shaft of light cut through the dim interior of the bottle. Looking up, Jeannie was shocked to see that the stopper in the bottle had been removed. It was open. While that did not mean that she was free, it did mean that she could at least get out of the confining space in which she had been trapped for far too long. She stood, preparing to depart. Before she had that chance, however, water slipped over the lip of the bottle, raining down on her in a steady stream. An outraged shriek escaped her throat as she stomped her foot, then faded into nothingness as she changed into a column of pink smoke.
When she had reformed her body, human sized now, Jeannie found herself standing on a dock. It was industrial and dirty, and one of many that lined the waterfront. There were a number of warehouses, though some of them seemed to have neon signs which was confusing. But the entire area gave her a feeling that this was not a safe place to be. This was certainly not Cocoa Beach, Florida! Where was she?
Looking down, she saw that her bottle was bumping up against one of the posts of the pier. With no other being nearby. There were a number of mortals, but they were much further down the docks. Not nearly close enough to have released her. Then… who had? It could not have just been bumping up against the pier that knocked the stopper loose. That had never happened before. It had to be removed. So who had done it? Who had opened her bottle and was now her new master?
It took some stretching towards the water, after lying down on her stomach on the dock, before her fingers touched the tip of her bottle and Jeannie was able to grasp it. Upending it, she dumped the water out and winced as she thought of all the things that had been displaced. The magical item was then quickly stored inside a hidden pocket of her harem pants, shrinking until it fit with no visible lump to be seen. Also unseen was the crystal stopper, missing from view, and she was still very, very confused. If mortal hands had not released her, then… was she free?
In that case, she was going home. Right now! Lifting her arms, Jeannie crossed them one over the other, holding them at chin height. With a quick nod of her head and a blink, she disappeared from the docks.
Only to reappear a few blocks away. She knew that she had not gone far because she could still see the docks from where she stood on the street corner. That was not supposed to happen. She had very specifically been aiming for Cocoa Beach. Was she ill? Jeannie did a quick mental review, but she could not recall feeling unwell recently. Nor did she feel bad now. Holding up her hand, she stared hard; but no, she was not disappearing in odd ways either. She was not sick. So why had she failed?
Quickly repeating the process, she crossed her arms and blinked. This time she ended up much further away, but still within the same city. Jeannie wasn’t entirely certain how she knew it was the same city and not a different one, but she did. It felt the same. No, that was not quite it. It was deeper. It FELT the same, on a level that went beyond mortal senses. The city felt… it felt… Jeannie could not quite put her finger on it. It was like something seen out of the corner of the eye, almost there, but gone before you could look at it straight on. It was not right.
She tried three more times in quick succession, blinking herself to several locations, but she was never able to get out of the city. Wherever she was, it appeared that she was stuck. As surely as if she were still in her bottle. Almost unconsciously, she slid her hand into her pocket to check on the container. What she felt had her pulling it out to look at it in astonishment.
When she had put it in her pocket there had been no stopper. She had looked for the stopper, she knew she had. Yet there it was, sitting atop her bottle. There was something odd going on here. Something very odd. The container was returned, with the stopper, to her pocket and Jeannie caught her thumbnail between her teeth as she considered, deep in heavy thought.
No mortal about after her release. The inability to leave the city, a city that seemed strange and powerful. And now the return of the stopper to her bottle, a sign of bondage to any genie. It all led her to an unorthodox conclusion. Yet as she turned it about in her mind, it made perfect sense. Her new master was… the city!
Placing her hands, palm together with fingertips pointed skyward, Jeannie bowed low to a nearby stoplight that was currently glowing green. “What is thy bidding, my master?”