ic Ultimate Cosmic Power, Itty Bitty Living Space (IC)

[Heritage]

Lynn's faerie nature meant she was abnormally swift and agile, and her sharp ears caught something just before everything went 'kerblooie', so she threw herself backwards, turning into her pixie form in mid-air and ducking behind the bulk of her desk, which shielded her from the brunt of the blast.

 

For her part, Gretchen was knocked backwards out of her chair, and probably would have split her skull open on one of the bookshelves if she wasn't currently protected by the disguised Cloak of Mystery. In the seconds of insanity that followed, a very clear imperative rang in the young woman's head

 

Get everyone out of the store NOW!

 

On it!

 

And override the fire alarm system! If we can contain this, I don't want all the books soaking wet!

 

Also done!

 

Her young partner staggered out of the office, smoke billowing behind her, and spoke in a very firm voice as she quickly made her way to the alarm system control panel behind the bar. "I need everyone to evacuate the store immediately. We have a very serious situation, and it is not safe in here for you. Don't worry about your purchases, we can settle all that later." She rapidly punched in an override to keep the sprinklers from going off for now, then turned to the two other employees on the floor. "Maddy and Lance, please escort them all outside."

 

"Is Boss lady okay?" asked a worried Lance.

 

"She is fine. Now get the hell out on the street."

 

The two 'civilians' quickly did as they were told, herding the handful of customers outside. Meanwhile, Gretchen poked her head back into the office to see what the hell was going on.

 

Pixie!Lynn floated over to Morgan to check on him, hovering in his face as her gossamer wings caused little eddies in the smoke. "Are you okay, kid? Anything broken?" She periodically threw worried glances back over her shoulder at the awe-inspiring...genie?

Edited December 5, 2016 by Heritage

[Quinn]

Morgan's vision was swimming - she could see his eyes focus and unfocus - before a sharp strike to his cheek from his own hand got his head back on straight. "...no...fine..." Deep breath. "...ow..."

 

While she was checking his face, the aforementioned Genie; itself still obscured - and now taking up about half the room in smoke, spark, and IRON. HARD. ABS. - was striking another pose. The booming voice echoing, causing the very windows to rattle, the papers on her desk to go flying, and her teeny-tiny faerie ears to ring!

 

"AAAAHAHAHA! SO LOOOOONG!" Boom, crash, thunder-strike! "TO TASTE AIR IN MY - WELL, I DON'T EXACTLY HAVE LUNGS, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! TO FEEL SOMETHING OTHER THAN AETHER AND WEAVE AND WEFT! TO SMELL MY OWN SPARKS! Slightly rude, that. Ahem. AL-KAZAR, WHERE ARE YOU?! DON'T THINK YOU CAN HIDE FROM ME, YOU CHEEKY DEVIL!"

[Heritage]

Lynn quickly resumed her own form to address the powerful magical creature. "Ah, hello there!" She waved meekly. "My name is Lynn Epstein. I'm the great-granddaughter of Ira Silberman, the man you call the Amazing Al-Kazar." She shrugged apologetically. "Al-Kazar isn't here; he left this plane of existence many years ago, and, well...he's not coming back." The changeling took a step foward and shrugged again. "Is there anything I can do to help? I possess some skill with magic myself."

 

Meanwhile Gretchen stepped back into the room and crouched at Morgan's side as she quickly checked him for signs of concussion or other blunt trauma. "You okay, big guy?" Despite her normally somewhat misanthropic nature, she was surprisingly gentle with the injured.

Edited December 18, 2016 by Heritage

[Quinn]

Stepping forward as the smoke finally dispersed, she was confronted with the sight of...

 

...well...

 

Ever see old-school cartoons? Usually featuring opera singers copying Wagner, in a horned helmet, spear, and breastplate, built like brick outhouses, yelling at the top of their lungs?

 

Picture that, except Arabian-flavored. The distinctly female figure floating in midair (and taking up nearly half the room!) half-smoke half-human, was clad in voluminous robes that nonetheless ill-hid the sheer size of her bust and healthy waistline, which bounced with every rolling laugh that filled the room. She wasn't laughing now, admittedly, instead staring at the tiny (relatively) Grimalkin in what could only be described as abject shock.

 

"WHAT?! AL-KAZAR?! GONE!? SHED THIS MORTAL COIL!? PASSED BEYOND THE OUTER GATES?! IMPOSSIBLE! INCOMPREHENSIBLE! I...MY...YOU..."

 

She swelled up, seemingly in fury, cheeks puffing, face turning red...

 

Before doing what could only be described as deflating. The fury and bombast drained out of the genie like she'd been pricked with a pin, shoulders slumping, eyes watering, lower lip wobbling. "...how?"

 

Morgan seemed to be gamely shaking his head, even as Gretchen leaned down. Aye, he had the signs of a concussion; but those gritted teeth and focused eyes distinctly spoke to someone who wasn't going to let that slow him down. She saw him use the wall to start getting himself up; gesturing for Gretchen to get behind him. "Able. Didn't know that was in there?"

[Heritage]

Gretchen helped him up as much as he would let her, trying very hard to remind herself that while his desire to shield her from harm was based on rather antiquated notions of female fragility, at least it meant he had concern for others, unlike some spell-slingers she'd encountered.

 

"No, we did not. It seems Ira left a few items off the inventory." Beat. "I'm actually kind of bulletproof. Maybe you should stand behind me."

 

Meanwhile, Lynn was doing her best to comfort the distraught genie. "He's been gone a long time, at least as humans view time; maybe only a heartbeat for you. He's...beyond our realm, I guess you'd say. I don't think he's ever coming back." She twisted her fingers into knots as she looked up into that big, sad face. "How...how did you know him?"

[Quinn]

The big, sad face started to weep - big, fat, scalding tears. Literally, they rolled like smoky snowballs (it's the season, sue me) down her cheeks to splatter on the ground, with a hissing and spattering like oil dropped on a hot pan. With an inelegant blubbing, she promptly lunged forward and engulfed the poor bookstore owner - practically picking up Lynn!

 

"H-he was my friend! H-he kept me safe when I was...was...WAAAAAAAAH!" The mighty genie's bombast truly did extend in all her actions - letting rip with a mighty wail. "He-he didn't banish me, even when I wanted t-to...twenty years! I'd wanted to ap-apologize, and now he's...he's..." Sniffle. She did not have a pretty cry - her great florid nose going all red, her cheeks all blotchy, her eyes welling up.

 

And it'd been such a nice, quiet day.

 

Morgan looked distinctly uncomfortable, looking at Gretchen. "...do you have a hanky?"

[Heritage]

"No, but she does," replied Gretchen as she indicated Lynn with a nod. And indeed, the changeling wriggled one arm free and snapped her wrist, and a large polka-dotted handkerchief appeared (because really, you had to respect the aesthetic), which she offered to the emotional creature.

 

"Here, take this; keep it, in fact." Using her cat-like flexibility, she managed to slither out of the big woman's grasp and plop down on her butt on the floor. "Oof! Okay, so, please tell us about yourself," she asked as got to her feet, rubbing her backside. "What's your name, how did you meet Ira, what's with all this 'banishing' business, the whole shebang."

 

"I'm going to get you an icepack," stated Gretchen as she left the room.

[Quinn]

There was a mighty HONK as the blubbering genie blew hard enough to kick up a small windstorm; sending the papers on Lynn's desk flying, and blowing her hair clear up off her head. A smaller sniffle, and the mighty smoke-elemental settled on her...well, brimstone? Everything below her waistline was colorful smoke, curling down towards the metal safe (which, incidentally, now looked a tiny bit worse for wear).

 

"I-I am Farrah, Farrah of Iram. Well, formerly of Iram, and before you say anything, no, I don't know where it is now." HONK. She managed to compose herself - enough that her bombast seemed to disappear some what; in favor of a more morose recounting. Thankfully, it wasn't anything Lynn hadn't heard before.

 

As Ira's predelictions towards the ladies was already a well-known fact, it didn't come as a surprise to hear that he'd encountered Farrah during an expedition into the subcontinent. She'd been in the hands for many years of a somewhat idiotic crime boss, who had used her to slowly fill up his coffers, converting lead to gold. It had been tremendously boring. Then, in blows the suave and charming Ira Silberman! A man of the world, a man of affairs, with magic in his fingers (yes, she blushed when she said that), and a great deal of cunning. He'd taken out the crime boss, and invited Farrah to see the world with him for a while.

 

Being that she'd been stuck in the subcontinent in the damned Calcutta slums since the days of the Raj, she was happy to go and see the modern world. Packed her bags, shoved herself into a hawaiian shirt and swimming trunks, flip-flops - a few moments after she explained her fashion choices, the tackiest American tourist imaginable was sitting in Lynn's office. Complete with palm tree sunglasses. Right, back to the story - Ira'd been so sweet, just a whirlwind romance as she got to see Tokyo, Los Angeles, New York, London...with a genie helping him along, Ira was overjoyed to find travel arrangements far less strenuous than before. She'd even helped him in the background of a few adventures - though nothing really overt.

 

Eventually, though, she got to when he settled down here. "I-it was...I forget what year - but...th-this one witch he'd charmed. He'd said it was over a long time ago, b-but-" Sniff. Her face started to crumple again. "...a-all I remember is meeting this...this lady in red, out in St. Petersburg. I was taking another continental tour. And then...next thing I know, she is..." She struggled to find words, but apparently the next thing she was doing was flying screaming over the Pacific, breaking through a wall - "that wall, to be specific" - she pointed at the one behind Lynn's desk - and trying to throttle Silberman for his infidelity. All rage. All smoke and fury. She wasn't herself, because if she was she wouldn't have tried to kill the man - she'd have been more inventive! More entertaining! Turning him into some kind of - of, snake or frog or something, and watching him hop about in outrage for a while.

 

Farrah had had many years to ponder what she'd really have done.

 

Ultimately, her rage snookered her - and Ira had tricked her into the safe's trap. Originally for thieves, with a quick tweak able to act as an emergency genie lamp. He'd promised to find a way to break the enchantment, and she'd been locked away in limbo ever since. She'd actually broken it herself after around twenty or so years; but nobody ever opened her up. She'd assumed by that point Ira had forgotten about her - and wasn't that a crushing acknowledgement.

 

The waterworks started again shortly after she said that - Lynn's carpet now somewhat damp.

[Heritage]

The changeling gingerly reached over to gently pat the tragically besotted genie on the shoulder; the size disparity between them was enormous. "Ira Silberman was...many things, and not all of them were good, but I'm sure his affection for you was real, at least at first. The man was cursed with a very wandering eye; he broke hearts all the way from here to Timbuktu." Lynn paused as she tried to think of some more comforting words. "Well, you're out now; the world has changed a lot since you got stuck inside that tin can. if you need a place to stay for a while, at least until you get your bearings, you're welcome to hang around here, as long as you don't scare the customers."

 

Meanwhile, Gretchen returned with an icepack, which she gently put at the back of Morgan's head; her mental words for her girlfriend, however, were a little less delicate.

 

No. F###ing. Way.

 

We just can't release a lovelorn eight foot genie out into the streets! She's been trapped in their for ages; she doesn't understand the Internet or the TSA or smartphones. Think of the damage she could do by just floating down the street!

 

I just...fine, it's on your head. One way or another, this is all on you.

 

Agreed. And believe me, I do expect to regret this, but I'd regret kicking her out into the cold, dark world even more.

 

"So whaddya say, Farrah? You wanna hang with us for a few days?"

Edited January 31, 2017 by Heritage

[Quinn]

Another massive HONK as Farrah blew into the (now quite sodden) hanky - staring at Grimalkin like she'd grown a second head.

 

"I...you..." Her lower lip wobbled again, a massive wobbling, a terrifying wobbling, a wobbling that would cause even the hardest of hearts (Hi Gretchen) to break down into tears of sadness and despair. Even Morgan was feeling misty-eyed, and he was sitting there nursing a concussion. Stupid mortal body. Mental note, get some kind of Crow-helmet. Or armor the hood. Or wear the hood. Hindsight.

 

Again, the massive genie engulfed Lynn in a hug that probably would have caused minor spinal damage, had it been anyone else. Except this time, the tears were flowing from equal parts joy and kindness, rather than sadness. "YOU OFFER ME HOSPITALITY OF YOUR OWN FREE WILL! SUCH GENEROSITY! SUCH KINDNESS! FOR THIS, I WILL SHOW YOU WITH THANKS, GIFTS, BLESSINGS, AND YOUR CHILDREN, AND YOUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN, AND YOUR-" And on and on she went, seemingly growing in size as she filled half the room - thunder-claps accompanying her words...right up until she seemed to blink. Then shrink. To a far more modest proportion.

 

"...ERR, IF YOU HAVE THOSE." Long pause. "DO YOU HAVE THOSE? I CAN HELP WITH THAT, IF YOU NEED IT! I KNOW THIS WONDERFUL GENIE FROM BAGHDAD WHO WAS SINGLE A FEW HUNDRED YEARS AGO! I COULD RING HIM UP!"

 

Ladies and gentlemen, Farrah when she was HALPING.

 

Gods have mercy on you, Grimmy.

Edited January 31, 2017 by Quinn

[Heritage]

Lynn held up her hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa; you don't need to shower me with gifts or anything like that; I'm happy just to help out."

 

At that, Gretchen's eyebrows went up as she once again switched to mental communication.

 

Seriously? You're going to turn down the one good thing about taking in a crazy, homeless genie? If the legends are true, she could do pretty much anything.

 

I know, I know, but that just doesn't feel right. My great-grandfather didn't treat her much better than a slave; I just can't do that to her.

 

Once again focusing on Farrah again, the shopkeeper smiled and clasped her hands in front of her.

 

"So, ah, Farrah! Can you make yourself look more like one of us?" She pinched her fingers together, leaving a small gap in between. "Maybe turn the volume down a smidge while you're at it?"

[Quinn]

Farrah deflated at those words.

 

No, I mean literally, she actually deflated. Just let out a massive rush of air, shrinking a hair further - she was still a statuesque stunner (if slightly leaning more to poundage than most), mind, though the biggest problem was the only thing protecting her modesty was an outfit that wouldn't have looked out of place on a belly dancer. At Lynn's question, though, she nodded; doing a little funny finger-flicking, and tweaking her nose - with a snap, crackle, and pop suddenly she was dressed in...well, the Hawaiian shirt was back; along with the khaki shorts. She lacked the camera and palm-tree sunglasses, at least. 

 

"Ta-daaa! Mysterious Tourist Farrah, not to be confused with Sexy Dancer Farrah, Beach Bunny Farrah, or Stage Magician Farrah!" Small Barbie-sized figures popped up on Lynn's desk with each line, each posing dramatically in appropriate outfits to the title. "Honestly, they totally stole that concept from me. Wanted to curse them, but he was all noooooo." She conferred, in a stage whisper - looking at the tiny figures as they nodded in concurrence; striking fresh poses. The spirit stopped briefly, as the Hawaiian design on her shirt literally featured a young man surfing, and falling off the wave into the water. Repeatedly. A brief look up and down of Lynn's outfit, and a thoughtful head-tilt.

 

"My dear, you must let me at those uniforms of yours."