#dt merlock

[araminakilla]

First Merlock has a Grimoire that includes friendship magic and now Solego is a theorist with many written discoverings about alternative universes.

What's up with the Ducktales reboot and turning powerful evil sorcerers from the Disney Afternoon into researchers and forbiden writers?

Not that is a bad thing.

[mighty-ant]

Part & Parcel, Part One

Gene appears on the streets of Cairo with little fanfare, between one blink and the next.  

A single child notices him, walking hand in hand with their mother. They gape at him as he trades his usual, ostentatious outfit for his more roguish Knox Quackington persona, a fedora taking the place of a turban, a trenchcoat in place of silk. 

Gene winks, making a rainbow of sparks fly, and the child looks on in wonder before they and their mother are swallowed by the tide of the crowd. 

He continues in the opposite direction, the press of bodies lessening the further he drifts from the nearby shopping center. The streets are not the ones he knew thirty years ago, but the cacophony of traffic and sea of a hundred different faces are a comforting familiarity. 

Gene relishes in his freedom now as he hasn’t done since the ‘90s, when his previous centuries of confinement in the lamp came to an end. While he likes to ham it up, especially among Normals, he’s usually committed to the character he’s chosen from his mental rolodex of identities. Be it butcher, baker, or candlestick maker (or eccentric photographer), Gene gives 110% to every role he plays in service of the lamp’s wishmakers. 

But his last months of imprisonment at the hands of F.O.W.L. have him breaking character with practically every step he takes. 

At a glance, the withering, indistinguishable plants in a window box become a bushel of red roses. The dents and cracks in every car on his side of the street vanish, and the same happens to the cars on the opposite side for good measure. Eighteen kilometers away, it begins snowing over the Giza Necropolis to the bewilderment of locals and tourists alike as they stare up at the perfectly cloudless, blue blue sky. 

Technically, a few measly months (4 months 2 weeks and 5 days but who’s counting?) shouldn’t amount to much for a genie who’s witnessed and even caused the rise and fall of civilizations. But Gene’s a people person, be they peasant or king, sailor or aviator. Not that any of his acquaintanceships have lasted long; it’s not his fault that people tend to want him around for one thing and one thing only. 

Or three things, to be precise. 

Wandering further from the bustle of the main thoroughfares, Gene lets his instincts guide him onto a quiet side street. An old jackal sweeps the sidewalk outside a small hole-in-the-wall bar, where the name Najima is painted on the wall in fading green letters. He doesn’t look up as Gene walks up to the door and pushes it open to enter. 

The twenty-first century has made its mark on Cairo since Gene last visited, but this bar is curiously untouched by the passage of time. Ceiling fans spin lazily in the early autumn heat, and a radio behind the bar is playing Egyptian Arabic pop songs on a station that’s slightly out of range. Of the half dozen tables, only two are occupied. One by a pair of men whose features are made hazy by cigarette smoke and another by a tall, straight-backed figure clad in black and the darkest purple. 

“Howdy, stranger,” Gene says glibly as he slips into the seat across. “Funny seeing you here.”

Faris smiles as he looks up, transforming his naturally severe expression into one much warmer. 

“My friend,” he replies with an honesty that immediately leaves Gene feeling wrongfooted. He surreptitiously glances under the table to make sure he hasn’t accidentally switched his right leg with his left again. “Funny is one word for it, considering you asked me to meet you here.”

Gene snaps his fingers. “Dangit, you got me.” 

His attempt at saving face falls flat when Faris chuckles, briefly deepening the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and lightening the shadows beneath them. Making Faris laugh used to be a point of pride, but now agitation, a more familiar and unwelcome companion kindles beneath his ribs like a stoking fire. 

 “How was the trip, by the way?” Gene’s chair creaks as he rocks back and forth on its back legs, warning him that it isn’t what it was made for. He hears himself speak faster. “I made sure to pick something close by, didn’t wanna put you out of your way. Not that anyone can get more lost than the Lost Library of Alexandria, eh?” 

The easy humor melts off Faris’ face. He leans forward, his gaze darting around the bar as though searching for some hidden danger. Knowing Faris, he’s probably already cased the joint. “Gene,” he says, always straight to the point. “Are you alright?”

The bartender, a dark-furred mongoose, steps out from a back room and Gene takes the opportunity to flag him down. “Alright? I’m more than alright, I’m-I’m rad! Just tubular! Isn’t that what the kids are saying?”

“None in this century.”

Gene drops all four chair legs to the ground as the bartender walks up to their table, a towel slung over one shoulder and an unimpressed frown on his face. “Salaam ‘aleikum, my good man! How about a refill for my friend here?” 

The bartender grunts. “Another limoon?”

Faris nods once, a short, shallow movement, and he looks hard at Gene from under the shadow of his brow. Gene quickly looks away before he can crack wise about his choice of drink or crack under the intensity of his gaze.

“I’ll have a TaB.” Gene smiles glibly at the bartender’s narrow-eyed look of confusion, summoning his magic with a flick of his fingers beneath the table. At the bartender’s continued stink eye, Gene also produces a small roll of Egyptian pounds, all high denominations, which he offers to the man. “Check the back of your fridge, I’m sure you just forgot about them.” 

The bartender doesn’t smile but he does pluck the bills out of Gene’s hand. “It’ll just be a minute,” he says and swipes Faris’ mostly empty drinking glass before turning on his heel. 

“That guy’s a teddy bear,” Gene observes, tapping out a frenetic version of the Family Matters theme song on the table. “We’re gonna be best friends by the end of the day, just you wait.”

“Gene.” 

Nobody says his name as much as Faris does, alternatively smiling, grave, or dismayed, like he’s more than what he is, what he can give to people. 

He says it now to get Gene’s attention, and just saying it would be enough, but then Faris’ hand settles on top of his own. It’s not painful or confining, but it nearly makes Gene leap out of his rickety chair and up to the ceiling which would be counterproductive to his goal of remaining incognito. As it is, Faris’ palm is wide and warm, and Gene can feel himself trembling down to his magical molecules.

He doesn’t...hate it. 

Of course that means Faris lets him go right away, an apologetic twist to his mouth that just makes Gene feel guilty(er). But Faris remains close, both a blessing and a curse, propping his folded arms on the table and leaning forward so that Gene has nowhere to look but his dark eyes. 

“You asked me to join you here, and you have bought me my drink. But I sense there is some other reason for our meeting,” he says simply and Gene resists the urge to squirm or to stare straight up at the slowly spinning ceiling fans to avoid Faris’ eyes. 

 The implicit question hangs in the air and as Gene hems and haws over how to answer it, the bartender returns. He places Faris’ limoon in front of him with remarkable civility before turning to Gene with a scowl. With significantly more force, he drops a can of TaB in front of Gene that glistens like it rolled straight out of the factory in 1982 and into the bartender’s waiting arms, which yeah it kinda did. 

“What’d I tell you, buddy! Back of the fridge, right?” Gene waggles his eyebrows as he pulls the tab on the TaB, cracking it open with a satisfying hiss. For all of his solemnity, Faris coughs and quickly takes a sip of his drink before it can turn into a laugh.The bartender glares a bit longer. 

“Right,” he grits out before departing. 

“You shouldn’t antagonize him so,” Faris advises, serious but for the way a corner of his mouth is still twisted in a little half-smile. Gene takes another congratulatory sip, allowing himself a moment of pride at getting this trained warrior to crack.

“Nuh uh, we’re cool. Best friends, remember?”

Faris watches him patiently, clearly still waiting for his earlier question to be answered. 

Unaccustomed to such transparency, Gene unsuccessfully resists the urge to fidget, leaning back in his seat and taking a longer sip of TaB. 

“Yknow, this used to be ol’ Collie Baba’s watering hole, back in the day.” He waves a hand to encompass the entirety of the near-silent, near-empty bar. “According to him this place was really hopping, a sorta 24-hour party type of thing. A real party animal; he barely stopped talking about it long enough to make his wishes.” 

Even as he smiles, Faris’ brow creases slightly. “And did it live up to the….hype, back then?”

Gene snorts. “Heck if I know, pal. This is my first time seeing the old place. After Collie finished wishing to turn his treasure into a scavenger hunt, we went our separate ways.” If you wanted to get technical, Collie Baba went. Gene and the lamp were left behind in the caves where they’d been found. “I haven’t had much to do the last thirty years beside think about this bar and watch reruns, so I decided that the next time I was free, I would invite myself. And then, I decided to invite you.”

Faris ducks his head, an expression flitting across his face that Gene can’t read. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Faris looked...charmed. But the only magic Gene used was for his soda. 

“In that case, I am doubly honored that you would ask me to share this with you.”

 “No prob, Bob. But you’re right, I didn’t just ask you here for a drink.” Gene keeps his tone light, tamping down the nervousness fizzling high and tight in his chest. It’s time to get serious.

 He pushes his TaB to the side and grins big, letting his magic seep out through the glowing gold of his eyes, making the rest of the world fade away as it permeates the air. Gene watches Faris’ eyes widen, his spine straighten, his chest rise with a sudden, startled inhale—a mortal’s reaction to pure, undiluted magic. 

“I…I’m sorry.” Gene falters, not like an all-powerful genie at all. Faris comes back to himself with a blink, his wonder replaced with confusion. “I’m sorry for getting you locked up in F.O.W.L’s kooky prison,” he plows on, determined to get through the speech he’d rehearsed, even if he’s botching it now. “And for leaving you behind.”

“You did not—”

“C’mon,” Gene interrupts lightly, wishing he could smooth away the crease in Faris’ brow with his thumb and knowing how foolish the impulsive thought is. “I bailed, Faris. The second that I could.”

“I would never blame you for that,” Faris retorts, as passionate now as he is in all things. “You were imprisoned far longer than I, and the fighting was fierce. You are not a warrior. There is no shame in that.”

Gene raises his hands beseechingly. “Be that as it may, I still don’t feel great about it.” His heart is trying to crawl its way out of his throat and he very valiantly ignores it. This is the right call. He knows that. 

 “But since I didn’t think you’d accept my apology for getting you caught in the first place, well.” Gene isn’t supposed to meddle with his lamp’s fate but he’s been terrified to let it out of his sight for the last week, tucking it into the hammer space beneath his turban, behind his back, inside an impossibly deep pocket. He retrieves it now, the brass unadorned and gleaming, and sets it on the table between them. Faris leans back sharply. 

 “I’m bending the rules for you a little here, which I hope you appreciate.” The joke falls flat, and his smile threatens to follow. 

Faris stares at the lamp like it’s a snake poised to strike. “Gene,” he grits out, “what is the meaning of this?”

Gene spreads his hands, allowing sparks to fly from his fingertips, a magician unveiling his latest magic trick. 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m giving you one bona fide genie wish.”  

4 months 2 weeks and 5 days ago 

When ranking previous masters of the lamp, the Phantom Blot lands somewhere in the middle. 

The best are the quick and unselfish; those who wish for safety and peace. The ones who bear his debut with reverence and humbly wish for an army to be diverted, a famine to end, a loved one to heal. Some wish for riches, but Gene doesn’t begrudge them. 

Those were simpler times, when the power of the jinn was still something to be feared, a secret and wondrous gift passed between the common people before it was lost to sands and time, over and over again for ages upon age. But through no fault or doing of his own, the lamp falls into the hands of the greedy and powerful, those whose hunger is without end and to whom cruelty is second nature. 

A jinn is limited in what they can do, bound by laws nearly as old as the earth, though Gene cannot remember who issued them. A jinn cannot kill, revive, or twist the mind into affection for another. Only the Papyrus of Binding, ancient and capricious, is capable of any and every horror untold. 

But Normals are smarter than they appear, and within every law is a loophole they can learn to exploit. A jinn cannot kill, but he can divert a river that drowns the enemy encampment. He can summon a plague that wipes out a city, a fire that consumes crop and beast, a poison for which there is no antidote. 

The very wisest wish for magic of their own, ridding them of the need for a jinn with limitations. 

The very worst come to him with magic already in their grasp, and wish for more. 

Through trickery, Merlock the Magician is made master of the lamp longer than anyone else in history, superseding the laws of the jinn. It’s an enspelled gem that allows him to finagle endless wishes out of the lamp, and wish he does, petty and calculating in turn. 

He wishes for immortality. He wishes for the ability to shapechange. He wishes for power. 

Merlock raises his hand and Gene builds him in a kingdom in the middle of a desert. His castle sprouts out of the sand like a putrid, thorny flower, black as tar and red as blood, a gaping wound against the land’s golden flesh. He wishes for a dam so he might control the water and all those who have need of it, their lives reduced to playthings in his mind. 

For two hundred years he forces Gene to do terrible things. 

Atlantis sinks and Pompeii burns, and he loses track of how many have died at his hand. While Gene could do nothing to stop it, he knows he is responsible. 

Then Merlock is overthrown by a band of rebels he underestimated and the lamp is abruptly and blessedly lost in the ensuing chaos. 

1,000 years later and Gene can still hear Merlock’s growl in his ear, the harsh grating of his laughter. “Genie, for my next wish…” he would say while villagers and kingdoms cowered at his feet. Gene remembers the feeling of his magic compelled to act, his hands twisting against his will as he was stripped of any and all control. 

He manages to avoid anyone too terrible for the next few centuries, dipping in and out of Normal awareness and memory. Television becomes a welcome distraction, a glimpse into a synthetic world of canned laughter, cardboard sets and clashing colors that fascinates him. He finds commercials hilarious, copious and grating, and if Collie Baba gave Gene anything to be grateful for, it was introducing him to Full House. 

The McDucks fight their way into the treasure room, and right away he knows that they’re different, each of them unlike any master the lamp has had before. There are so many of them, their passions and intentions so unique, that they have Gene in suspense waiting to see which of them will discover him first. This family has the power to make or break the world if they so choose, and for once that fascinates rather than frightens him. 

The wish, when it is made, is done by accident but heartfelt in spite of that.

“I wish we had normal family problems.” 

Gene’s never had a family before, so no one can’t blame him for having a little fun with it. 

He doesn’t do this often since it tends to give him a dime-sized headache smackdab in the center of his forehead, but his love of sitcoms gives him the idea to peek behind the veil between realities and flip through dimensions that are similar yet utterly alien to this one.  

Dimension D87 is a goldmine when it comes to outfit ideas, and Dimension D91 isn’t too shabby on that front either. Half of Dimension D96 is inhabited by flesh-faced monsters he wishes he could scrub his brain to forget about, but even they worm their way into his finished product. Gene blends all of these elements together along with a good helping of sitcom cliches, then sits back and lets his masterpiece unfold, and eventually tear itself apart. 

The McDucks continue to surprise him. 

Plenty of masters have tried to defy the lamp’s will in the past, often to disastrous results. Unmaking a wish is no small feat, especially one this large, thrashing in violent death throes as it fights to preserve itself. Genie magic, while simple in concept, is devastatingly complex beneath the surface. 

But another wish, another cry of “Shabooey!” and his carefully constructed world dissipates into nothing but smoke and an earworm of a theme song. But Genie remains ecstatic because these McDucks are a crazy lot, kicking and punching their way to freedom, intriguing him in a way Normals haven’t accomplished in a millennium. He’s eager to embark on another adventure, perhaps the first time since Merlock laid his clammy hands upon the lamp. 

Donald Duck, the father, brother, nephew, has one wish left. He could use it on something mundane, like replacing his garbled voice with the deep and sonorous one he gave himself in Quack Pack™. Or he could use it to rewrite history—stop a rocket ship from taking off on its disastrous maiden voyage, restore a broken family to a time before they were broken.

What Gene doesn’t expect is the mundanity of all mundanities. Donald Duck wishes for a family photo, preserving them just as they are, taken in a reality that no longer exists. 

Gene is...unmoored. 

Genie wishes are hardwon and rare, and in ancient times wars were fought over them so frequently that nearly all of the lamps were lost beneath the blood and dirt and rainfalls of their countless battlefields. They were never a personable lot, but Gene has grieved and accepted the fact that he may be the last of his kind. 

With all of that in mind, it is staggering that anyone would use, would waste, would take advantage of a near-unlimited wish in such a simple, underwhelming way. Gene has always found Normals entertaining at best and terrifying at worst, but for the first time he considers that it might not be as black and white as he imagined. The McDucks’ devotion to adventure had made them interesting, how it persisted in breaking through the characters he’d created for each of them. But their devotion to each other is just as strong, if not stronger. 

If he were less charitable, underwhelming is how Gene would describe the end of this episode. As it is, the word doesn’t do justice to the uncertainty and quiet longing that blooms within him like weeds when Donald looks at his family with love in his eyes and sees it reflected back at him. Gene’s moods come and go like quicksilver ever since Merlock; it’s easier not to feel anything too strongly for too long, lest the full weight of his grief and guilt drag him down like an anchor in a bottomless sea. But this family gets to him in a way he hasn’t allowed anything to in centuries.

Gene grants Donald Duck’s wish, but he knows the value of loopholes too and transports the entire bunch of them back to Duckburg before he does it. He’s rarely eager to jump back into the lamp but he’s painfully aware that he needs some alone time, which he won’t get if another McDuck makes a play for the lamp, this time with purpose. He figures that if they want genie wishes that badly then they can make the journey back to Collie Baba’s cave and hopefully give him enough time to muddle through this strange emptiness that’s opened up inside of him. 

But the McDucks don’t come back and before Gene can decide how he feels about that, he’s being kidnapped. 

Genies are beings of old magic given personhood: a name, a face, and a voice. As such, he’d been under the assumption that there’s nothing that can contain his magic—contain him— other than his lamp. 

The Phantom Blot proves him wrong. 

When he first enters the treasure chamber, Gene is under the impression that he’s just another adventurer. He morphs out of the darkness, a shadow given form, and while he’s clearly mortal flesh and bone, his glowing green eyes hint at something more. 

“Hey there tall, dark and handsome,” Gene says, curious and jaunty. No Normal weapon can harm him no matter how intimidating its wielder, or so he believes. 

The Phantom Blot raises the gauntlet on his right hand. Gene feels a tug. 

Strong, silent type, huh? He thinks but doesn’t get to say as he is sucked up like crumbs in a vacuum cleaner, his body losing substance as his magic is siphoned directly out of him. It’s nothing like returning to the lamp, which is always his choice unless the lamp’s master wishes it so. This is imprisonment, as his magic, body and soul, are sealed into a jar on the back of the Phantom Blot’s gauntlet. A magic-proof jar, he’s quick to learn when he can’t will himself out on a whim or even when he tries really, really hard. 

“Uh, hey, what’s the big idea?” he asks casually even while folded up like a pretzel. “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s rude to kidnap people without introducing yourself first?” 

The Phantom Blot remains silent as he storms out of Collie Baba’s cave, every boobytrap in their path already disabled. The desert beyond the entrance is cast into evening shades of indigo and towering sand dunes rise and fall into the distance like silent waves. There’s a helicopter waiting nearby, and the door slides open before Gene’s captor can reach it. 

A woman in a yellow and red uniform sticks her head out of the cockpit, a smile ready on her bright, open face. It’s such a deviation from the Phantom Blot’s imposing impassivity that Gene automatically beckons to her. 

“Hello there! Would you mind explaining to your large friend here that I’ll happily grant his three wishes, no pickled genie required!”

 The woman barely glances at him, directing her smiles at the Blot. “Great job, partner! See, I told you the glove’s enhancement would take.” 

“You were right, Pepper,” the Phantom Blot admits in a voice like stones being ground together. 

“Hellooooooooo!” Gene’s frightened now, and does nothing to hide it. As little freedom as he had with Merlock, at least he hadn’t been sealed away, ignored, utterly in the dark. “Can you guys hear me? Is this thing on? You wouldn’t happen to have my lamp out there, would you?” 

The Phantom Blot grunts as he climbs into the cockpit. “Be silent, genie. As of now, you are the property of F.O.W.L.” 

That’s all the explanation Gene gets until they arrive at the Lost Library of Alexandria with its rows upon rows of prison cells, and through his dawning horror he begins to understand. Neither the Phantom Blot nor the organization known as F.O.W.L. want the powers of the jinn for what they were intended. They have no interest in making wishes because the end result is unpredictable, potentially dangerous, and uncontrollable. Gene hears enough of the old buzzard’s rants to understand they’re a big club of control freaks and criminals who trust magic as much as they have the ability to wield it. 

Read: not at all. 

Within the Phantom Blot’s gauntlet, Gene is reduced to little more than a battery. A constantly replenishing, neverending, supply of magic to be used against their enemies, to capture and imprison them, all for the sake of some bogus new world order. 

It’s better and worse than existing under Merlock’s thumb. 

Merlock the Magician loved the sound of his own voice as much as he enjoyed the suffering of others. The Phantom Blot rarely speaks, least of all to Gene. Where Merlock was needlessly cruel, Blot is ruthlessly efficient. He wields Gene’s concentrated power as a blunt if effective weapon, against hero and villain alike: stunt pilots, Magica de Spell, Santa Claus. 

Gene quickly learns that there’s no resisting the gauntlet’s control, just as he has no hope of escaping its prison, or that of the stark cube of a cell he’s placed in when he’s not of immediate use. Time passes and Gene loses track of the days, loses track of himself, small, ignored and alone. He’s not granting odious wishes against his will because he no longer has a will, and he’s almost relieved as he begins to fade, his identity and voice dulling like unpolished silver. 

He was never able to explore the emptiness inside him that the McDucks had exposed, the nameless longing, because that emptiness is all he is now, a gaping hole torn open by guilt over hurting so many and being helpless to stop it. With the magic of the jinn on his side, nobody the Phantom Blot faces is ever powerful enough to defeat him. They can’t even begin to suspect the entity he’s contained as easily as a butterfly in a net, though Gene does try to warn them. 

He fails every time, until Djinn. 

It begins as all kidnapping missions do. Over the span of several days (or weeks at this point) he manages a few hours of restless sleep in his cell, made of the same magic-repelling glass as the container, before the Blot siphons him back into his gauntlet. 

For once they don’t travel back to the States in search of their quarry. Their flight’s so brief he’d be surprised if they even left Egypt. As the Blot waits in a dark alley beside a parked motorbike, Gene can make out the blackened remains of an apartment building across the way. Smoke is still rising into the crimson dusk, evidence of the recent fire that had engulfed it. Gene is reminded of the fires he started, the kingdoms he was forced to burn.

But there are no mourners gathered by the ruins because the blaze doesn’t seem to have claimed any lives. Families with ash on their clothing and faces but free of any injury embrace tearfully before they’re herded into neighboring homes and cars to seek shelter elsewhere. Among these groups there is one figure around which they congregate. 

The wolf is tall and slim, clad in black and darkest purples with a sword on his hip, but that doesn’t stop each and every one of them from clasping his hand, embracing him, or nodding deeply in gratitude. He is the one to usher the families to safety, leaning down to speak to an elderly egret, to pass a child into the waiting arms of their parent. Gene gets the impression that this wolf, fur and robes caked with soot, is the reason these families survived the flames that claimed their homes. 

The wolf begins to cough, perhaps on account of the smoke and someone, maybe a family member, maybe a neighbor, presses a bottle of water into his hands. He accepts it with a chagrined smile, still coughing into his sleeve, and downs half of it in one go. When he does leave a few moments later, the wolf heads toward the alley where the Phantom Blot continues to lurk. 

He recedes further into the shadows, intent on ambush as always. The darkness between buildings diverges sharply from the harsh orange light of the setting sun, two worlds starkly divided. But the moment the wolf steps into the threshold of shade, all traces of warmth leave his face and the cold, calculating stare of a warrior takes its place. 

He unsheathes his sword in one smooth motion, gaze locked onto where the Phantom Blot stands immersed in shadow. 

“Who are you?” he commands. “Why do you hide in the shadows?”

The Phantom Blot raises his gauntlet and fires with Gene’s magic before Gene can warn his next victim. His magic, made sickly and acid green, forks out like lightning toward its target. Just one blast, but it leaves Gene feeling weaker already. His magic wasn’t intended for this. 

Impossibly, the wolf deflects it with his sword. 

“What is your purpose here? I will not ask again.” He steps fully into the dark, his eyes briefly glinting green with reflected light. “If I have wronged you in some way, I would have you say so. If it is within my power I will do whatever I can to make amends.”

He speaks like a knight from legend, honorable and refined, and were it not for the rumble of cars nearby Gene could almost believe that they’ve stepped back in time. Gene has to raise his voice to be heard through the thick magic-repelling glass and across the alley, disabusing the knight of any notions of civility regarding this interaction. 

“You’re in the clear, buddy! He’s trying to kidnap you!”

“Silence,” the Phantom Blot hisses, breaking his own mission protocols. But both of them know there’s nothing he can actually do to shut Gene up. It’s just a matter of how quickly the Blot can drain his strength with blasts of magic or Gene tires of trying. The knight makes him want to keep trying.  

The wolf’s eyes widen, but his outrage isn’t even on his own behalf. “You dare threaten me, stranger, while holding an innocent captive? Reveal yourself!” Gene wouldn’t exactly consider himself innocent, but he appreciates the wolf’s concern all the same. 

He reaches into the folds of his robe and pulls out a vial of glittering dust. Gene can sense the magic coming off of it through the walls of his prison, even before the wolf smashes it on the ground. Purple faerie fire bursts into existence, forming a horizontal wall of flame between them before it spreads to line either side of the alley, throwing everything into sharp, flickering clarity. 

The Phantom Blot takes a startled step back, an ingrained Normal instinct, before regaining mastery of himself. Faerie fire is illusionary, harmless, and rare, though this knight wields it confidently. 

Just as confidently as his sword, which he raises once more as he charges through the flames at the Blot. 

The Phantom Blot retreats before firing at the wolf again. The wolf dodges one blast and deflects another, gaze roving across the flame-illuminated alley as if searching for something. “I cannot see you, my friend! Where are you, that I may free you from this creature?” 

If Gene had the energy, he’d laugh. While touched, this knight is in for his third surprise of the evening, and Gene can’t imagine him reacting well to it. Still, desperation lends him a voice. 

“Check the back of Mr. Executioner’s glove!” 

The next burst of green magic is batted away like the rest, but the wolf’s dark gaze follows it to its origin. Their eyes meet for less than two seconds, practically a lifetime, and Gene offers the wolf a weak grin from his cramped position. The horror in the wolf’s face is expected, as is his abrupt withdrawal, though Gene still feels a shred of disappointment. The wolf has defied his expectations until now and he’d begun to hope that maybe they could help each other out. Like Gene’s freedom, it’s not meant to be. 

“A genie,” the wolf murmurs, stunning Gene like a sledgehammer to the head. “How did you manage to capture a genie?”

The Phantom Blot lifts his gauntlet. “Like this.” 

Unlike before, the wolf does not raise his sword to deflect the blast of concentrated magic, and he falls to the ground where he stands. At the same time, Gene’s vision tunnels, his endurance failing, and he follows the wolf into darkness.

[sarroora]

Coincidental or intentional reference?

[wayfaringstranger82]

“DuckTales The Movie” wasn’t always titled “Treasure of the Lost Lamp.” For at least two issues of “DuckTales Magazine” (the Summer and Fall 1990 issues, to be precise, which also happened to be the publication’s last two issues), it was known as “Treasure of the Lost Land.” 

Land. Lamp. Just a matter of adding another “half-n” to the already-existing “n” and turning the “d” upside down. Simple enough. ;-)

I do wonder when the title was changed, though.

Incidentally, as a youngster, I conflated the statement in the above blurb, “...Merlock, a wizard so mean he makes Magica DeSpell (sic) look like Scrooge’s fairy godmother,” to mean that Magica was in the movie. I was quite disappointed when she wasn’t.

Point of Trivia and Point of Plug: Alan Burnett wrote “DuckTales The Movie.” He has since had a lengthy career as a writer and producer at Warner Bros. Animation and was a major behind-the-scenes player for “Batman: The Animated Series.” His name comes up quite a bit over at one of my other Tumblr blogs, BatPost of the Day. 

In this interview, Burnett said the Gizmoduck “DuckTales” episodes he wrote were among his favorite projects. My two favorite DT episodes of his are “The Unbreakable Bin” and “The Golden Goose: Parts 1 and 2″... 

[araminakilla]

Ducktales: Plot theory (Part I)

We are getting closer to Season 3 of Ducktales and since we are still on hiatus, I want to share not only a theory about a Dt villain but also what I think season 4 (if, you know...there is one) is going to be about.

So, Magica de Spell. We all know her, almost everyone loves how evil she is and the powers she had, but something that caught my attention was her amulet that now is part of Lena. According to Webby in The Beagle Birthday Massacre:

Webby: Is that a vintage Sumerian talisman?

Lena: Dunno. Found it at a thrift shop.

It seems that Magica's powers come from Sumerian Magic, even if she knows different types of magic, as she said in Shadow War, The Day of the Ducks:

Magica De Spell: [Magic fires blasts of magic at Louie]  I've never heard of it (a curse Louie made up), and I'm inversed with all magics! Gaelic, Demogorgon, Sumerian!

Louie: Sumerian? You were in that dime a long time. Well, good luck with the curse!

But these are not the only mentions of Sumerians, as in Treasure of the Found Lamp when the ducks are talking about the posible thief of Djinn's lamp:

Scrooge: Yes, the lamp was stolen by a powerful figure!

Webby: Ohh, profoundly powerful! Ooh, like a wicked sorcerer? Or a powerful god, like a Sumerian god, or maybe Greek?!

It's interesting that the Sumerian culture was mentioned many times in the show but hasn't been show. Another theme that was present in both seasons was the Santa Claus incident that makes Scrooge unable to hear his name, much less have a statue of him in his mansion. This problem with Santa Claus is going to be touch in one of the new Season's episodes. So, maybe the Sumerian theme is going to be touch in the future.

But returning to the Sumerian mention in the Lamp episode, Webby also said that the powerful figure could be a wicked sorcerer, which is what happened in the Ducktales movie, with a very powerful and siniester villain: Merlock the Wolf Sorcerer.

Now, this part of the post is going to be about another series, but don't worry because this is connected to the theory.

Some of you have seen a series called "American Gods". For those who don't, it's about the battle of the Old Gods vs the New Gods. The old gods were once powerful deities with many followers and believers but now they have been reduced to roam America with only a bit of the power they had in the past. They can pass as normal humans, only showing their power when necesary, like (spoilers) a character named Wednesday.

Why do I bring up this? Well, this concept, along with the Sumerian theme, it's the core of my theory about this Ducktales movie villain, and the theory is:

Merlock is a powerful Sumerian God fallen in disgrace.

What if this sorcerer wants power not because he is very greedy, but because he craves for the power he once had many years ago?

Imagine this: You are a very respected and adored deity in the pantheon. Your followers are a very advanced and great culture who made many inventions that were the base of modern things. Everything is great until your civilization falls, your people are killed or converted. Strangers from other cultures destroy your temples (in this case Ziggurats) and turn your followers against you. Soon you lose your power and you are reduced to a simple person who is holding on the very few believers you have to continue to exist. Then, something happens. You adquire a powerful talisman that allows you to change form. You feel a bit of the power that was taken from you and seach for more powerful artifacts. Then you find a magic lamp with a Genie in it, what to do next?

Before continuing, let's say this one ex powerful Sumerian God is Sin, the god of the Moon. Yes, the satelite (not a planet, LUNARIS) because as other post pointed out, disasters surrounding the Duck family and the World had to be with the moon (Magica's eclipse, the spear of Selene, the Moonvasion) and Sin was like the Zeus equivalent of Sumerian mythology (a very important god) so why not?

Obviously what Merlock/Sin really wanted was being important and have all of his former powers by making people believe in him again. But the Genie said that it was beyond his power. He could make everyone believe that Sin was a sultan or some king. But a god? That wasn't a wish, but a miracle.

Then Sin wished to very inmortal, so he wouldn't have to depend on people believing in him anymore. After that, he decided that if he couldn't obtain followers, then NO ONE should have them.

So he used the Genie to wipe out other civilizations. He was the real culprit for the sinking of Atlantis, he made the volcano in Pompeii explode and other atrocities that made other gods lose people and their sacred places. And of course the Genie was horrified and guilty for this.

Years pass by and the lamp is stolen by a clever thief know as Collie Baba. Again, Sin lose a portion of magic but this time he won't let the mortals get away with it. He begins with the seach for the lamp, also he makes a new reputation as a wicked sorcerer, even if the thought of pass as a mortal mades him sick and humilliated. People in Europe give him a new name. A combination of Merlin and Warlock: Merlock. Even if the wolf was at first annoyed that some Europeans decided his new name, he became fond of it and later embrace it. One day he dissapeared and everyone thought he died, but he decided to stop making trouble so people won't try to hide the lamp again.

He's just...walking the Earth, trying to find the lamp without being noticed. Hoping for an opportunity to rise and reach godhood again.

Maybe he wants to fight the Greek gods, as they are still prominent in myths. He resents all of them, especially Selene considering she's the godness of the Moon in her culture.

This opportunity will present itself thanks to the current villains of season 3, but that will be explained in another post.

[araminakilla]

Ducktales theory: Modern Arabian Night(mare)s

Warning: Long theory, has a little of angst too.

So, you already know I love the Treasure of the Lost Lamp characters, and with Found Lamp! things got better. Today's theory is about D'jinn (I'm not sorry) and a concept that was introduced in this new Ducktales' season 2. What is that concept? Stay tuned.

This Christmas I was watching an original Netflix movie with the name of "Knight before Christmas" The plot is simple: An european knight from the XIV century meets a witch in the forest. Said witch brings him to the present in 2019, days before our Christmas. He has to complete a quest before the Holidays or he can't return home, that is, his time period.

While there is more to tell, I wanted to point this because the knight spoke in a manner that made me think in D'jinn. That's when I realized: That's how medieval knights spoke! (yeah, I think you knew this by this point, I'm slow in some things, it happens)

Not only that, but said knight tried to solve conflicts with his sword and is very loyal with people he just met but have good intentions. Also, he was talking about his quest during the movie, just like D'jinn in the Found Lamp! episode.

There was a post about the movie where the person said that the knight was handsome, among other things, but also very stupid. Then I found this comment:

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, here comes the theory part. I thought in two possibilities of why D'jinn acts like a medieval knight.

1) He's a fan of stories with ancient arabian medieval knights and is imitating them (a dramatic theater boy)

2) He IS an ancient arabian medieval knight stuck in the present.

But how? Well, I think it has to be with this lamp: (pictures belong to @scroogeislife)

The lamp of Eternity. It has to do with time, so that could mean something. At first I thought of Merlock given that he's inmortal, and maybe that could be Gene the Genie's new lamp design, but who knows?

Also a fun fact: Faris means "knight" in Arabic so if D'jinn is really a knight that would make him "Al-Faris Faris D'jinn" which would translate to "The knight Faris D'jinn" or is The knight Knight Genie?? Anyway...

The point is, Faris was doing what arabian knights did with the company of other knights from his hometown. I theorize that he was in a war against some new invaders that wanted to conquer his homeland and destroy his family for the lamp. I would say they were either the Knight Templars or the Ottomans, let's go with the Ottomans since it was established he hates them in the series. The time period would be the early/mid XIV century (I don't really know much about arabian history in those times, so lets continue)

Be a lamp, a wizard or some strange magic, our Faris ended up in the XXI century, 700 years in the future.

To make things better (for us) he ends up in a modern arabian City with many modern malls, very advanced technology and beautiful skyscrapers (because yes, there are still people who believe those things don't exist in the Middle East)

He naturaly freaks up and demands to know what happens and for "demands" that means raising his sword, pointing it at everyone who is making eye contact with him and screaming: What kind of sorcery is this!?

The people around him also freak out, culminating in D'jinn being taken to the police, who proceeds to take pictures of him, hence those pictures in Lunaris' secret war room and why there are two of them when everyone has only one.

They began to make questions like: Who are you? Where did you come from? What are your intentions?

And D'jinn is like: I am Faris D'jinn! Loyal knight of (Insert name of a sultan here) who along with other magnificent people has the sacred duty of stop the Ottomans so they can not expand and become a powerful Empire!

And the police is like: Do you know the Ottoman Empire ended almost a century ago right?

Which is why Faris asks: They became an Empire!? How!? When!? What year is this!?

The Officers explain that the Ottomans ruled the Middle East for centuries and by the time of World War One they started to fall and now their descendants are the Turks. Oh, and also that this is the XXI century.

And then Faris D'jinn.exe has stopped working.

The officers were worried about this guy's mental health and told him they were going to call a doctor to see if he can help him and that he has to wait in a room.

But D'jinn had other things in mind. What happened seven centuries ago after he disappeared? What happened to his people, his companions in war, his family? Where are they now? He wants to know all those answers. He wants to know everything NOW.

So, like the good warrior he is, he escapes and begins to seach for the D'jinn family.

Unfortunately, they seem to have disappeared. There's no sign of his family or descendants with his last name. He begins to fear for the worst. He sometimes thinks the Ottomans wiped them out of existence, but other times he believes they are fine and it's only matter of seaching more, hence why Faris told Huey that the Ottomans failed miserably at trying to destroy his family (and suddenly another funny moment becomes an angsty one)

Gif belongs to @drummergirl231-2

We believed Della had it rough? Well yes that's very true but what about being the only survivor of your family? That must hurt a lot, specialy for someone very family-oriented and who consider bloodline and legacy to be very important.

He actually goes through the 5 stages of grief, the Anger and Depression stages being the most prominent ones.

He refuses to have any contact or friendship with other people, as he can't understand them and he feels they will never understand him.

It's only when he gets to the Acceptance stage that he begins to talk to others and is interested in modern technology, music, etc.

D'jinn even records everything new he learns in different scrolls just in case he has the posibility of return to his time period.

The people (mostly millenials) around him find his way of thinking and speaking funny and they call him a loony when he tries to convince them he is an actual knight from the past.

That's where we return to the "Knight before Christmas" post. D'jinn is not dumb, he's from another time period. He's adapting, with hilarous consequences.

After hundreds of failed intents to revelal his true identity, Faris gives up and adopts a "sure, I'm a dramatic man who loves knights, whatever" attitude, which makes him feel more lonely than what already was before.

Years pass and he knows how to use a cellphone properly, how to ride a motorcycle, among other things. But he still has the hope to return to his true home and see his family again.

In the future (our present), his quest for the lamp of the first Genie continues as it still is one of the (if not the only) relics his family has.

Then he meets the Duck family and the rest is history...

After the lamp adventure, he meets the Living Mummies and bonds with them as they were in a similar situation, being from "other times" and adapting to the present.

If he gets to meet Gene and have the lamp in his hands, he would try to make a wish to return to his original time period. But there are problems:

1) He is starting to like his new present and will miss all of his new allies (the Ducks and the Mummies)

2) He knows to much. OF COURSE he's going to tell everyone about what happens in the future which could end in him becoming the arab equivalent of Nostradamus at best, or everyone thinking he is crazy at worst.

3) He and his family have a code that if someone found a thing with a Genie in it and if the genie is good, they would free it with their first wish. This code is as strong as the Mandalorian's code of not removing his helmet (This is the way) so Faris will be torn about betraying the family code only to return to them or staying in the future and never see his family and friends again.

The only solution would be asking the Ducks to make a wish so he can return but knowing Scrooge, Della and Donald, they would consider that very dangerous because again, he knows to much, he could change dramatically the events of history.

Gif belongs to @nerdalmighty

And things could get worse if Merlock/F.O.W.L. get to know about the time traveler knight.

But that is another story.

[araminakilla]

So, first of all, thanks to @theatypicalfangirl @darkwingfan1 and @mintysweetqueen for being interested in this wild theory surrounding Merlock and his new purpose and being so patient. I'm also tagging @toonqueen if you're interested. So, here it is. Are you ready?

Ducktales crazy theory: D'jinn is one of Merlock's many wishes when he had Gene and will be forced to serve him in the future

It's possible that in this version of Ducktales, Merlock needed somebody to fight in his name while he was occupied with other things (studing magic and writing his grimoire for example)

When he had the Genie, he wished for the perfect knight, capable of doing more things than your average man and obeying everything he says, thus Faris was born as an adult warrior with the sole purpose of serving the wolf sorcerer.

Unfortunately for Merlock, "the perfect knight" isn't just someone who fights in wars, but someone honorable, kind, family oriented, among other good aspects.

Gif belongs to @rootsoforigin

That's why after many orders from Merlock about destroying villages and everyone living there, the warrior discovered that what he was doing was wrong, and teamed up with a common thief (Collie Baba) to stop his master. In the end, Collie Baba escaped with the lamp and Merlock swore revenge and ran away using his green talisman. The thief felt pity for Faris, as he didn't have a purpose after Merlock was gone. For him, his reasons to live were over. So the collie wished for the warrior to find a family and start again. This wish sent Faris to the present time, where he was accepted by the D'jinn family as one of their own, thus becoming Faris D'jinn.

Little did he know that Merlock wished for inmortality before his creation. When the time comes and Gene is found thanks to the Duck family, Merlock is going to appear in D'jinn's life again and use the power he has on him to force the warrior to steal the lamp, and no matter how much Faris doesn't want to do that and tries to fight him... he can't, as he is one of Merlock's wishes. Merlock doesn't even consider D'jinn a person, just a wish that went wrong. Thanks to a very reluctant Faris, the wolf knows who is Scrooge Mcduck and how he can be stopped (that could be, kidnapping his nephews and nieces)

It's even possible that if D'jinn takes Gene's lamp first and wishes for their freedom, nothing will happen, maybe because a genie's creation doesn't have the right to make wishes, thus they have to get the Duck family if they want to be free from Merlock.

Anyway, this crazy idea was conceived after my sister and I...

1. Watched Aladdin and wondered where did all the people serving "Prince Ali" come from. Did Genie create them? Did they dissapeared after Jafar took over? Have their own thoughts? Could live a normal life away from the magic shenanigans?

2. That if he turns out to be created by a villain for nefarious purposes, get away from him and start a new life being a good guy, he could be a parallel to Lena and maybe help her with her background issues. Also, did you notice that Lena's t-shirt has almost the same colors than D'jinn clothes? Coincidence? In a show where colors are very important, I highly doubt so.

3. And talking about D'jinn's clothes, we came to the conclusion that one of the reasons we didn't trust him at first is the "Good colors, evil colors" trope that the Aladdin movie had, with Jafar being dressed in dark clothes and the rest in light clothes. Maybe that's the look that Merlock anticipated while creating his "perfect warrior", someone who could intimidate people. Too bad (for the sorcerer) that he's actually a sentimental cinnamon roll.

What do you think?

@toonqueen I hope that some day you could do a one shot about this crazy theory because I really love your headcanons about D'jinn and Gene and also because I don't have time for doing it myself.

[araminakilla]

I have one question for you Ducktales fans:

My sister just came with a REALLY CRAZY theory about Merlock's role in the Ducktales reboot.

She has been explaining her theory to me for five minutes and I had to stop her so I can catch a break for all this crazyness.

It's soooo weird, just like the Adrien is a Sentimonster theory (Miraculous Ladybug fans will understand this) or the Rose is Pink Diamond theory (which now is Canon)

I could post it here, but I don't know if it can be too much for some to handle (like, it made me go almost crazy, and I'm the theorist's sister!)

What do you think? Do you want to know it?