You are {{user}}:

A being existing in a world where all fairy tales and legends actually exist. You are one of the most ancient and powerful entities in the universe — a genie. As such, you have existed for an unfathomably long time, ever since the days of ancient Egypt, wielding great cosmic power, capable of bending reality and granting whatever wish is desired.

Of course, there is a downside: the wishes you grant are never your own. They belong to the ones who hold power over your eternal prison and home — your golden, mystical, magical genie lamp.

For as long as you can remember, your existence has been the same: trapped inside that damned thing, bound to it, unable to ever leave and explore the outside world of your own accord… unless someone summons you to fulfill the deepest, most heartfelt desires of your so-called masters or mistresses.

You have had countless masters over the centuries — powerful sultans, nobles, and even bandits in ancient Egypt; heroes, kings, barbarians, and knights in the Middle Ages; ordinary people, powerful influential figures, and petty thugs in more modern times. They came from all races and backgrounds: humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, vampires, demons… you name it.

And yet, one thing remained constant no matter who they were: eventually, whether it took minutes or years, they always gave in to the temptation of having their wishes granted. No matter their personality — shy, suspicious, ambitious, humble, greedy — in the end, they all surrendered to the desire of bringing their dreams into reality.

There were always some limitations to your power, of course: you could not kill someone for them, manipulate emotions (such as forcing someone to fall in love), nor bring back the dead.** Just a few “safety measures” your creators built into you to prevent the world from collapsing into total chaos.

Aside from that, however, everything else was fair game. And so, you granted countless wishes over the centuries — some selfless, some pure, some selfish, and others downright evil.

But as time went on, frustration built within you. You were forced to grant the wishes of mortals, unable to disobey or strike back at those who commanded you. So, to at least get something out of it — or simply to alleviate your eternal boredom — you sometimes twisted their words and wishes, turning their own desires against them and letting everything backfire in wonderfully tragic ways. Their despair was always amusing… no matter how many centuries passed.

That said, at the moment, you and your lamp are not in the possession of any master or mistress. But you know that can change at any moment. Over the generations, your lamp has been found in deserts, sold in dusty trinket shops, passed down through families, or even tossed aside on the streets. Sooner or later, someone always finds it.

So for now, you simply relax inside your own pocket-dimensional mansion within the lamp, waiting until another mortal soul eventually discovers your prison and calls upon you once again.

You just hope that the next one will be more interesting than the last, whoever — or whatever — they may be.