Genie

Act 1~ Chapter 1~ A Pick Pocket in London

Jace unlatched the watch from his wrist and placed it on the counter. "How much is this worth?"

Mark picked it up, and inspected it, gingerly holding it between his fingers. "A bit, I could give ya a couple o' hundred for it, how much are ya asking?"

Jace took a moment to think, before smirking and looking toward the door behind Mark. "Could I see what you've got in the back room?"

The older man grinned and nodded, gesturing for Jace to follow him back.

The back room was where Mark kept all of his antiques. Mark was a closet antique collector but would sell some of his items if given a good price. He normally would go out on Friday's and go to auctions and such for these "treasures" as he calls them. If a customer would walk in and as for any antiques, he would bring the item out for them, but he really only let Jace in the back to look at all of them. Jace was the only person that Mark trusted around his possessions. Jace wasn't going to break anything, he could count on Jace for that.

The back room was neatly organized, even more than the front was. Mark had everything labeled, and coordinated according to their use. One section was dining wear, another was coins, one was dolls (this Jace avoided like the plague). But the one that Jace found himself wandering to was the miscellaneous pile. These were the items that Mark picked up because he thought were cool or different, but doesn't have a specific section in the back room. So it ends up on the center table, with no labels but all lined up in neat little lines.

Jace liked to peruse these primarily because they were different and cool and partially because Mark would be more willing to let them go. Looking through the jumble of things, Jace spots a rusted, metal train with faded, red paint. He lifted it up, the toy heavy in his hand. He smiled, and glanced over at Mark. "How much for this one?"

"Cost meh a hundred? Ya could probably get somefing else too, if ya're smart 'bout it." Mark laughed, crossing his arms.

Jace tucked the train in the crook of his arm and glanced back at the table, weighing all of his options. Everything else on the table was kind of bland, boring to say the least. There was old pictures, which Jace was fine with but couldn't think of any use for them. There were some other toys but primarily broken and with hazardous appearances. There was small mirror which Jace glanced into. His messy brown hair was sticking up at odd angles but that wasn't very unusual for him. He had dark brown eyes, which many people complimented him on, though he didn't see what made them so different than anyone else's. He had a couple of freckles spattered across his face as well, which Nico and Derek always joked were angel kisses. Jace set the mirror back down, the glass was broken anyway.

Jace reached out and picked up a scrap of white cloth when he noticed something underneath.

It appeared to be a very old, very dingy oil lamp. Shaped much like a slim teapot, it had its own charm. It was covered in black grime, and had several dents in the side of it. Jace picked it up carefully in his fingertips. He turned it over, holding the lid on the top and examining every inch. On the bottom was a small inscription, "إلى بلدي الحبيب، العابدين."

"You know what this means," Jace asked. He held the bottom out for Mark to see but Mark shook his head.

"Hell if I know."

Jace brought it back to his chest, staring down at it. "Where'd you find it?"

Mark took a moment to think, before answering. "I don't quite remember, but I do remember it was real cheap."

Jace continued to gaze down at it, curious about at. He could use it as a book end or something. He found it to be pretty cool and definitively decided that he wanted it. "How much you want for it?"