|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 15, 2024 2:41:57 GMT
Theresa sighs as she sinks back into her chair, moving away from her laptop she had been updating grades on. Moving from Graduate classes to Undergrad is... much more of a learning curve than she had thought it would be. History is not a common prerequisite to take, but she teaches four classes. American, World Civilizations, Ancient Civilizations, and Western Civilizations. Simple, easy, introductory. In the past, she had been so much more... specific. The Black Death; The Fourteenth Amendment and the Meanings of Equality; Islam in Africa; Colonial Rule and Its Aftermaths in Africa; De-Centering Imperial China, 960-1800; Sovereignty, Resistance, and Resilience: Native American Histories to 1865; the list goes on and on. All of it is so fascinating to her, even if her inflection is so very emotionless. Rarely, very rarely, she will get caught up in the moment, give a glimmer of that inner life... But it is best kept to herself.
She finds herself missing the students that wanted to learn History to understand it, rather than to check off a box in their studies of other things. It is worth it, in the end. She has a home now. She has a family now. She has Steph-
A glint of metal catches Theresa's eyes. She isn't sure when, but something in the room has shifted, accommodating for something else, something far more grand. Magic- Fate- something along those lines. She stands, moving to the bookshelf that holds many antiquities, looking at the newest addition.
"Well now, how queer..." Theresa murmurs, taking a few tentative steps closer. Images rush past her with every step, histories that aren't hers but its. It has seen many things, she resolves. Not as many as her, but many indeed. "How long have you been there, djinn?" she asks, knowing its contents, though not more than that. She had not known djinn were real until now. The visions she is having are confusing. The Seven of Cups, The Wheel of Fortune, The Knight of Wands, The Six of Cups. Interesting, but vague. Positive, but mysterious. Her hand reaches to it, already knowing what she must do, much like the many that have come before her.
Theresa gently rubs the lamp.
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 15, 2024 21:04:51 GMT
The Lamp released a stream of mist, which quickly took the shape of a humanoid. Once it became solid, it revealed a man of visibly Arabic descent, with tanned skin and dark hair, dressed in simple and functional clothing; what stood out was the gold in his eyes, like molten metal. He was handsome, but otherwise, he might have appeared human. He was anything but human.
"Difficult to say, Master," he replied to her previous question with a slight smile. "My Lamp tends to do whatever it wants, or others enjoy to help it along."
Aladdin examined the woman holding the lamp. He decided to take a direct approach, not wanting to play coy.
" So, let's get to the rules: Three wishes, no more, no less, no wishes for more wishes. I cannot change the heart or kill, and resurrection tends to end poorly for everyone." He paused, letting the words sink in before he continued. "Other than that, skies the limit, so... anything you wish for, Master?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 15, 2024 21:18:20 GMT
There is no surprise on her face as she watches a mean appear from this lamp, though she does hold in her heart some wonder. He is... handsome. Theresa is an observant woman, and she is... certainly observing him. Not as handsome as-
Theresa takes a step back. "May I politely request you call me by my name? I prefer Dr. Brooks, but would understand that in this instance, formality can be ignored. Theresa is also appropriate," she requests. "What may I call you? It stands to reason if I offer my name, you might offer yours, as well."
Right- wishes. For some reason, that had not occurred to her. It stands to reason this would happen, but cause and effect had not been something on her mind when she had rubbed the lamp. Wishes. Her heart holds so many little wants. Things for herself, things for others. She knows so much, there is so much suffering, there is so much room for joy, so much room for growth-
"Nothing. I have no wishes," Theresa says, taking another step back. She hits her desk, her hand going to her face as her nose starts to bleed. Is this how Stephen had felt? The burden? How can she choose? How can she narrow down the infinite to merely three? Who is more deserving? Who is less? She cannot use them on herself, there is... She knows, inherently, the things she wishes she could change simply cannot be. It is her burden, handed down to her by those far more powerful than this djinn.
"What... what now?"
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 15, 2024 21:46:45 GMT
Aladdin curiously examined her, taking in her words before shrugging his shoulder. "Sure, that works for me," he replied with a slight smile. "You can call me Aladdin; it was a gift, after all."
As she said she did not have wishes, Aladdin raised an eyebrow even more when her nose started to bleed.
In all his years, people who truly did not want anything were rare and far between; he could count them on one hand. So, he was not buying what she said just because she said it.
His piercing gaze focused on her for a few long seconds before he looked away, taking a closer look at the room. "I find that hard to believe," he said, strolling over to a bookshelf, slender finger running along the spines of the books. "How should I know? You rubbed the lamp; you called me here. You answer me... what now, Doctor?" His voice was not unkind, but he sounded tired and drained.
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 15, 2024 22:05:20 GMT
"Aladdin," Theresa says, testing the name. There, again... The Seven of Cups, The Wheel of Fortune, The Knight of Wands, The Six of Cups. They hit her hard this time, trying to tell her something, and she can't quite... interpret it. She watches the past, a tangle of limbs of the djinn and the Aladdin that gifted him a name. "That was kind of him, to grant such freedom," she murmurs, thinking. There- a thread- She can feel it under her fingers so she strums it-
The room, for her and perhaps him too, is filled with a divine note. Fate, pulling them together. It tightens. She needs to do something- what? It reverberates through her, vibrating even her bones.
"If you had wishes, what would you wish for?" Theresa asks, the words pulled from her. Something more important is at play here, something she cannot see the ending to. More visions pass through her, filling the room. She falls through centuries, crashing into lives that she shouldn't know about. So many things, flashing by at a dizzying speed. A shaking hand goes to a tissue box, lifting whatever it is she can grab to her nose. She cannot see it, she cannot even see him anymore. Just... his history. Solomon. Lucifer. The Black Death. The Dancing Plague. The Laughing Epidemic.
Warnings?
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 16, 2024 8:31:55 GMT
Aladdin curiously examined Theresa; he did not need to guess her abilities as a soothsayer. But for many reasons, he also knew that it would do her no good to look too deeply into his past. Still, her mentioning Aladdin, the first to do so outside himself, caught the djinn off guard, even if he did not show it.
"It was," he replied, "It might not have been his intention, but in the end, he gave me the one thing I never had before an identity. It is something mortals seem to take for granted, the power of being."
He watched her, shakingly grabbing at the tissue box—the curse of visions. He had heard her question, but it appeared she could not hear the answer, at least not now. So he decided to do something about it. "Blessed be those blind to fate, for they know not their place in my Uncle's Book." He said, approaching and lowering himself to be at the same level as Theresa at her desk. With one hand, he reached out and gently handed her a fresh napkin. "Some places are better left undisturbed, Milady..." His voice was kinder, and his eyes more... gentle. "You could easily drown in the tapestry that is my existence."
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 17, 2024 12:45:31 GMT
"You love him," Theresa murmurs, feeling it fill her being like a warm liquid. It makes her smile, oh so briefly, a flash of something underneath the mask of stoicism she has worn since she was a child.
"What a way to go, Aladdin," Theresa says, something awed in her voice. She can see him, amidst it all. Her eyes connect with his, and she knows she well and truly could drown here. "To drown in you?" she adds, as if he might need further explanation. "You've... you've been around longer than I have memory, I think," she says, shaking a little. Yes... this is what it all means, she is in the presence of someone who has Been before Mankind- for that is how far back it all goes for her... The Dawn of Humankind. She had learned that in high school, just after fourth period Algebra II.
Understanding floods her. "You are of the Endless," she says, nodding. The world is starting to come back to rights, and she takes the offered tissue with a polite, "Thank you." She takes a deep, steadying breath.
"Forgive my reaction- this is the first in a while I have been... overwhelmed. I know who you are, I know where your feet have walked, I know the lives you have touched, I know the heartache you have endured," she says, taking another deep breath. "I think this calls for tea, don't you?" she asks, pushing off the desk lightly and finally breaking the gaze of their eyes.
"You never answered my question. If you had these wishes, what would you wish for?" Theresa asks, fussing about making tea. Anything for some normalcy. It grounds her after... after that.
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 17, 2024 13:15:03 GMT
Aladdin was not upset by her words; he might have a few generations ago, but at this point, he had so much life behind him that few things caused such a reaction. No, his passion for fire took other shapes these days; for the most part, it was best for everyone that way.
"Well, suppose that is one way to put it, Milady," Aladdin let out a sing-songy laugh. "I shall take that as a compliment."
At the mention of her memory, he replied first with a slight nod.
"Yes, that would be the right of it," he continued; for him, age was not something he reflected much upon, not like there was much to remember from before humanity... "The world was an empty place back then, so not something I spend much time thinking about, mortals are what made the world... fun, and the gods which came along with them."
Aladdin, once more, nodded when Theresa continued.
"That I am, after a fashion, my Father is The Smokeless Fire, and my Mother is Desire. So, yes, I do have somewhat unusual family ties." He shook his head. "You've got nothing to ask forgiveness for. I said what I did for your sake was more than mine, Milady." The smile returned, " and tea does sound nice."
He had hoped she would drop the question, but as Theresa asked again, he sighed.
"That is not as easily a question as one might think. Aladdin asked me the same thing, and freedom from my cursed state would be nice. But that is impossible; the curse of the Almighty cannot be so easily broken, even by wishes." He raised his arm, and Theresa could briefly see the golden strands of magic binding him to the Lamp. "But, if I were to wish for something, it would be... a bottle of cider made from Taliaferro apples." He stood back up; his desires were not as extravagant as mortals; he had enough of that. "Thomas Jefferson cultivated Taliaferro apples at Monticello. In his own words, it was unquestionably the finest cider we have ever known and more like wine than any liquor I have ever tasted which was not wine. Sadly, the apples died out and have so far not been rediscovered."
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 17, 2024 14:13:59 GMT
Theresa doesn't have it in her heart to correct him again on her name- at least Milady is better than Master. She is no one's master, she knows. It comes from somewhere deep in her heart, this knowledge. But, she is certainly someone's... something. The feeling fades away. She uses one hand to make tea, the other to dab at her nose until the bleeding has abated.
"Are you partial to any blends? I have a personal one I enjoy sharing," she says. Rarely does she get to share it. It is a treat every time.
There is a comfort in the art of making tea. The sounds, the smells, the heat of it. Just like how she enjoys going to the park to center herself, so too does Theresa enjoy brewing. It is almost a ritual, her moves practiced and timed. She has done this so many times, many of them one handed much like now. Busyness is another way to keep it all at bay...
"Then, I wish for a decanter of everlasting cider made from Taliaferro apples, as you recall it," Theresa says, nodding. A fine wish, as any. "Consider it a gift, or maybe simply compensation for all the years you granted wishes... and hardly ever received any of your own," she says, and a little weight is off her shoulders. Not enough to be free from whatever chord she had plucked before. The note still hangs in the air, an insistent buzzing.
The universe bends a little, peering down at this moment.
"What else would you wish for?"
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 17, 2024 17:05:59 GMT
"I'd be happy to try your blend", , Aladdin said, "Trying new things is one of the few things I get to do that I find delight in. If you enjoy sharing it, I feel I will enjoy receiving it." He would have offered to heal her, but his magic outside wishes did not expand to the healing arts. He did hand her another napkin to dab at her nose when the one she had looked dirty.
He curiously watched her make the tea, each moment done by a practised hand, so she had done this a lot. He could appreciate someone with a knack for the fine art of tea-making as much as he appreciated someone with the skill to make a strong enough coffee, nothing quite like Arabian Mocha.
Aladdin had to take a few seconds to register what Theresa had just wished; sure, it happened that people asked what he wanted, but for someone to so quickly wish for it the moment after it was spoken? Now, that was something that did not often happen. "Your- your wish is my command," he said, snapping his finger, and immediately, a clear crystal decanter appeared on the desk; the room was filled with the most enticing smell of rich apples. Aladdin knew the scent but did not think he would ever smell it again. "Only if you agree to share a glass with me if you wish to delight me with your tea, let me do the same."
The Djinn glanced up as if sensing something; his brow furrowed slightly before he looked to Theresa again.
"What would you wish for me?" He asked, "I'm curious to see what you'd wish for, Miss Theresa, if you were to wish for me" Perhaps he was a little coy, but these Masters were rare and far between, so he liked to see where it was going.
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 17, 2024 17:27:08 GMT
"Thank you," Theresa says, taking the napkin. She is saying it for the gesture, of course, but so much more. Moments like these make her feel... real. Even with the pain. Maybe that is why it is there, to make sure she doesn't truly slip away? Keep here in the here and now, at least a little?
Just as the smell of apples fills the air, so too does the aroma of tea blossom. "It is western in its flavors. A mix of white tea, cedar, vanilla, star anise, black currant leaf, and mint. I have found it works well for the stimulation of thought and relaxation of the body," she says, letting it steep for exactly four and a half minutes.
"It is yours to share, Aladdin, and I am glad you have chosen me as the first among many," Theresa says, breathing deep the scents of the room. There is a hint of smoke, perhaps from him, perhaps from the past, but it all lingers like that note. She is starting to enjoy it.
He poses a grand question. There is nothing she can do about the past and what has happened... she cannot free him... Is there more freedom that can be granted? Or... perhaps a balm for what will come? Ah- there it is. A ghost of a smile flutters on her lips. "I would wish... that when you are at your lowest, darkest, most hopeless moments... that you would be helped somehow, that you would find possible allies, that you could be granted mercy, that you would find reasons to possibly hope, that you could pull yourself back into the light," Theresa says carefully after some thought. "It is what I would wish for everyone."
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 17, 2024 18:19:04 GMT
"Sounds delightful," said Aladdin, and he did mean it.
The djinn grinned, and with a gesture, two tall glasses appeared next to the decanter; Aladdin gracefully poured cider into each glass, and as with the magic of this object, it did not look any less full once he was done pouring. "Reminds me of the master that wished for a never-ending fried shrimp dispensary." he mused as he watched the amber-coloured liquid. "It came with eight different sauces; I recall the mystery flavour was white chocolate. I would not recommend that combination of flavours."
Her wish was, once again, unexpected and very abstract, taking into account a future that might or might not happen, for allies that might or might not exist, and the mercy he might not even deserve. For a brief moment, the smirk of Desire flashed through his mind, causing him to grit his teeth and quickly look to the side. "Not everyone deserves it," he commented, with the faintest hint of grimness to the voice, before he took a deep breath and looked back to Theresa. "I know not the outcome of such an abstract wish, but your wish is my command..." Once again, he snapped a finger. Nothing happened, yet... something was different, powers had shifted... somewhere, without knowing it, Miss Theresa had just done something almost unheard of. She had just caused the faintest change in the book of Destiny.
What would the consequence of this small change be? Or maybe the change was always part of the plan?
"You're an unusual woman, Miss Theresa, and believe me, I've met my share of people over the aeons, be they mortals, angels, demons or gods."
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 17, 2024 19:03:12 GMT
Theresa gives a somewhat noncommittal nod, taking the now warm mugs to him. "Would you like to sit?" she asks, offering one of the two chairs on the closer side of the desk. She takes one of them, placing the mugs next to their glasses of cider. Idly, she thinks the flavors will blend well.
"I cannot shame another for their wishes," Theresa says diplomatically. "Though I certainly can judge them quietly," she says, a gust of air exiting her nose. A laugh, perhaps? Hard to tell with her. It takes time to understand her little idiosyncrasies. She takes a sip of the cider first, letting it flow through her with delight. Not too sweet, decadently thick, absolutely beautiful... "Well spent, I think," she murmurs. "It will give many smiles, I think, yours among them. Very well spent," she continues, already seeing some of them. A balm to the soul, as burned as hers is.
"No, they do not. I think that is what makes it a gift, Aladdin. Seldom do we deserve what we are given," Theresa says and... something within her starts to churn. Anger? It is blinding- utterly dwarfing in its magnitude- more overwhelming that all of Aladdin's history- the combined fury of eons of suffering unjustly handed down as punishment- Theresa dabs at her nose again, the blood coming back. It is accompanied by her burns flaring, clothes smoking. Perhaps she was the one to fill the room with the smell... "No, no one deserves what they get. They just get it," she murmurs, wincing.
"You are not the first to tell me that, though not so kindly, thank you," Theresa says, sipping again at the cider. It really is delightful. "Did that wish count? Which one? Or- both?" Theresa asks, curious.
|
|
|
|
Post by DornKoon on Sept 17, 2024 19:43:09 GMT
Aladdin tilted his head slightly. There was something about Theresa that felt familiar.
"You remind me of someone," he said after a few moments of contemplation. "Queen Scheherazade, too, did not wish for much. She was bright enough without any aid, diplomatic, and witty. Many do not even know she was real. Still, such was the fate of many of the minor realms of the Middle East, to be erased with time and forgotten." There was a hint of melancholy in the djinn's voice. He sipped at his glass, assaulted by memories of when he first drank this... "I still remember when Jefferson shared a glass with me; some would call it a long time ago, but it was... very recent. On that note, Benjamin Franklin was perhaps one of the oddest men I have ever met."
Aladdin nodded; there was truth inside her words.
"Yet, everything that happens happens for a reason." Aladdin chuckled, "You've got a very cynical view; I can appreciate that."
He examined Theresa, taking in her question and letting the words sink in before answering. He summoned a glass of water, to cleanse his palet before sipping the fragrant tea.
"I only granted one wish, and hopefully, Uncle did not look into his book." There was a slight playful smirk as he said this, not aimed at Theresa, but at someone else. It was not often that Aladdin had interacted with Destiny, but he was not opposed to giving him a slight headache. "But I don't think we have anything to fear; the only time I've seen him lose his temper was when a city of old forgot their promise and made a mockery of the family. This is no longer a city. It is over. It is ended." Aladdin raised his hand before lowering it. Old tales such as these were rare for him to speak about. The funeral of his Aunt was not something he liked to think back on. "A great wind came down. The first Necropolis was destroyed, with no stones left on the other. When Uncle does do something, he tends to do it thoroughly."
|
|
|
|
Post by Countess on Sept 17, 2024 20:59:34 GMT
Theresa pauses slightly, turning away from this all consuming rage within her to focus on something, anything else. Where had it come from? Is it hers? How long had it been there, lurking? There is a root to is, deep within her soul. It sings at the same tone as the note that hangs in the air. She has to let this go for now- it isn't productive. It isn't safe. It isn't deserved.
"I know her," Theresa murmurs. "Parts of her persist, at least," she says, thoughtful in her answer. "You're too kind to compare me to her. I can only hope to persist like her, though I am not sure that is my lot in this life. I like my books, so for now, that is enough," she says, nodding slightly. She listens to him speak of Benjamin Franklin, and she can hear his laugh and the clinking of glasses. There isn't much more to sense- for now, she only feels Aladdin's words be enhanced.
Theresa does that almost laugh from before. It isn't often she drinks. Never really hit her like everyone else. She supposes if it did, she would have drank most of her young adulthood away to quiet the memories. Better this way. "I rather think myself a realist, but I am willing to concede that is exactly what a cynic would say," she says, dry in her humor as she jokes a little with him.
One wish left... Theresa is more curious about his stories than what she shall do with it. "We shall have to see if Destiny will be cross with us- I am supposed to glance at the Book of Souls, not write in it. Perhaps, this was meant to be. Maybe he wanted to look out for his beloved nephew," she says, a touch of humor in her tone. She is opening up to him, just a touch.
"Mmm... what is one wish you wish your wishers would wish for?" Theresa says, then does that huff of a laugh again. Anything to drown the anger. Now that she knows it exists, she cannot ignore it. It is like a burn- well, perhaps they are related, then. The answers will come, in time. "And... when I use this wish, what happens after that?" Theresa asks, an idea starting to form in her mind.
|
|
