Thank you for choosing "Magic Carpet" for all your travel needs.

[mywillisthine]

He missed his apartment.

It may have been viewed as a kindness on Clementine's part, and Cyrus would never hold it against her, but he almost wished she'd just kept him in his bottle. Being used to freedom just made being enclosed within his bottle torturous again.

At least he had a better view this time. Instead of a busy street, his bottle was laying half buried in the sand on the beach. The sunsets were rather beautiful over the water. Still, he wished he could be walking along the shore, toes in the sand and letting the water rush around his legs.

With a sigh, Cyrus laid back against the cushions and let the waves lull him to sleep. All he had to do was wait.

Comments

[fuck_it]

Chris wonders if he hangs round the beach these days because he misses the island. In a lot of ways, it turned into home for him after having lived there so long. There was still loads of stuff he missed about Bristol-- people, mostly, the ones who never turned up-- but the beach here in Darrow reminds him of bonfires and swimming and hanging about with Cass and Olive and he's going to spend as much time here as he can before it's cold again.

He's got his shoes in one hand as he walks, and he's thinking about texting Cissie to see what she's up to when he jabs his toe against something half buried in the sand.

"Shit," he curses, reaching down to grab his toe and make sure it's not broken or anything.

And he notices the bottle.

[mywillisthine]

Cyrus is woken quickly by the sudden movement of his bottle. He instinctively covered his head with his arms, then when things settled, he sat up to look out of the grate in the bottom. He cursed softly as he didn't see anything but that didn't mean anything.

Taking a deep breath, he settled himself for either more movement or perhaps being summoned again.

[fuck_it]

It's not weird, someone leaving a bottle on the beach, but he wishes he hadn't stepped on someone's rubbish on the beach.

"Wankers," Chris mutters to himself as he picks up the bottle. Though, it doesn't look like someone should have binned it, not really. It's got a bit of dirt on it, though, and Chris rubs at the bottle a bit with his shirt, to see if it'll come off.

[mywillisthine]

There was movement as Cyrus recognized the feeling of his bottle being picked up and then the familiar red smoke surrounded him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing to meet his new master.

Red smoke streamed out around the stopper of the bottle and curled around a spot just in front of the boy on the beach. Cyrus materialized within it, head ducked and hands behind his back. He respectfully nodded his head as he said the traditional words, "Master mine, my will is thine. Tell me your wishes three."

[fuck_it]

The bottle is smoking.

The bottle is fucking smoking, and even though it isn't at all hot in his hand, Chris tosses it onto the sand in surprise, falling over backwards to land on his backside in the sand as red smoke emerges from the bottle. Red smoke, and then a man, standing over him, like he'd been in the bottle all along or something.

But how could someone be in the bottle. He isn't tiny enough to fit.

"What the fuck?!" Chris exclaims, looking up at the man, "What the fuck?!"

[mywillisthine]

Biting the inside of his cheek to hide his amusement, Cyrus looked his new master up and down subtly. A young man, this could be interesting. They could be either self-serving or cruel...but his immediate judgement was telling him neither.

"I apologize for startling you." He began evenly, daring to lift his eyes. For some reason, he didn't think this young man would require subservient behavior. It made the genie relax. "Have you ever heard of genie before?"

[fuck_it]

He's still sat there with his mouth open in shock, eyes wide. No fuckin' way this is happening. Chris would think that maybe he's seeing things, but it's been ages since he's done any drugs that might make him see a man turn up out of smoke.

Chris nods in response, maybe a few times more than he's meant to, but mostly 'cos he can't figure out how to make his mouth work just then.

[mywillisthine]

The nod and continuing silence had Cyrus fighting back an amused smile. He raised an eyebrow before giving in and smile as he asked, "Are you alright? I hope I didn't surprise you too badly..."

[fuck_it]

"You came out of a fuckin' bottle, mate," Chris replies, and stands, brushing the sand off of his trousers and trying not to look like too much of a bellend at the same time.

"D'you mean you're really a genie, then?"

[mywillisthine]

"You did see me come out of the bottle. And I really will grant you three wishes, as long as they abide by the laws of magic." Cyrus reassured as he held out a hand to help the young man up. "I'm Cyrus."

[fuck_it]

" 'm Chris," he says, taking Cyrus's hand to help him stand up again. He's still trying to wrap his head round all this.

"Sorry. Man turning up out of a bottle. S'not something you see every day." He can't think of anyone he knows who would've been alright with it. Even with all the weird stuff they all see every day, he doesn't think he knows anyone who's done this one.

It takes a moment, but then the other bit of what Cyrus has told him clicks.

"Three wishes? Really? Like, I can wish for anything, and it'll turn up just 'cause I asked for it?"

[mywillisthine]

"So I've heard, Magic must not be common where you are from." It was a simple explanation, but Clementine had hadn't this kind reaction, nor had Coraline when she'd somehow figured out he was a genie. "I can see that as a blessing really." Magic was often more trouble then it was worth.

Then he took a breath as he began the familiar explanation. "Almost. Your wishes have to obey the laws of magic. The rules of magic say that I can not kill anyone, nor bring anyone back from the dead. I also can not change the past, nor make anyone fall in love. And I must warn you, the bigger the wish, the bigger the consequences, so please, think carefully before you wish." He made sure to stress the last carefully.

[fuck_it]

Chris frowns, one bit of what Cyrus has said sticking out to him right away.

"Why would anyone wanna bring someone back from the dead?" he asks, "A bunch of fuckin' skeletons walkin' 'round. No one wants that."

It sounds like something out of a film, really. Though, he doesn't know if this bloke's magic's the same as whatever's brought them to Darrow and whatever brought him to the island, but he's not about to take that chance.

[mywillisthine]

Despite the grim manner of the subject, Cyrus couldn't help a dry laugh. "People tend not to think of the consequences of their wishes. The laws of magic do not like to interfere with fate." He would knew, since stopping a fated death was what had set him to this fate of serving others.

"You do not have to decide now. Please, feel free to take time to consider your wishes." He bit his lip before he asked if he was to remain in his bottle or if he could return to his apartment. It wasn't for him to decide.

[fuck_it]

Carefully, Chris walks up to pick the bottle up out of the sand, turning it over in his hands. It's not smoking anymore, and it doesn't seem like it's gonna explode or anything. Mostly, it just looks like an ordinary bottle, now that it hasn't got a bloke in it.

"So there's not a timer on it or anything?" Chris asks, peeking into the hole at the top.

[mywillisthine]

Cyrus watched warily as his bottle was picked up. It wasn't that he didn't trust Chris, it was more that he didn't know what would happen to him should something happen to his bottle. As he told Alice, good bottles were hard to find.

"No timer. In fact, as long as you have your wishes, I don't even have to be present for you to make them." He held out his hand and gestured for Chris'. "Hold out your hand."