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Urge to Create Rising...
Again. Oy...
Has this ever happened to anyone else? You think of something from some long-ago bit of media you were never all that into but still liked, and then fall absolutely head over heels in fascination with some terribly minor character who never got much development, but what's there piques your brain?
I was thinking of Aladdin today- the Disney series. And the Mukhtar came to mind- scrawny lizardy fellow who hunts genies and is damn good at it. Youtube came to the rescue and I watched all two episodes wherein he/it was featured.
And now I want to write about the Mukhtar, or, being the lazy fandom-member that I am, read or look at creations of others about him. And what do I find, consulting ff.net, deviantArt, and what few Aladdin fansites are to be found?
Nada.
As I said- he's a very minor one-shot character, from a series that was never a huge sensation (at least not that I ever knew of) that ran before the real heyday of the internet was getting started, and whose fans were mostly of a very young age at the time and whose few sites (at least those I've seen) tend to be aging and stuck on some crappy angelfire host. So among what little fic there is, there's a lesser and lesser chance of there either being any that caters to my desires, or of it being easy to find.
So now I want to read or write about some epic exploration of the Mukhtar's character, why his kind are the sworn enemies of genies, what the history is, what he's been doing with himself since things came to the point of bounty hunting rather than a matter of honor, is he really the last? and what's he going to do about it, what's he going to do with himself from here on out with a genie as a friend and the world his to wander?
Me being me (not always a bad thing, just necessarily an odd one), what came to mind was a scene of him being helped with a difficult birth/egg laying out in the desert (why yes, I have seen and read Enemy Mine), and through that reflecting on some of the histories, the culture, biology, the loneliness and the where-do-we-go-from-here? feeling that I kind of imagine for the character.
...dang.
Just- I know I can't be the only person this sort of thing happens to, with the sudden obssession over the truly obscure bits of fandom. It's entirely uncharted territory, to my knowledge- no one else has put up a fanon on this anywhere I could see it- possibly I'm the only one who cares.
So here's the things that have been playing in my head... (be warned, weirdness toward th' end).
Perhaps the mukhtar were once a major civilization, kind of the old trope of the lost cities and peoples that existed before the current crop of major histories. The Aladdin/Agrabah universe seems like it could support that sort of sword'n'sorcery trope very well, as well as the former dominance of strange lizardmen. Genies, however butchered they are from the original mythology of djinn, probably haven't always been under comeplete control via the wish-making lamp-dwelling slavery forever, and even so, have some pretty hefty power and probably not always the nicest tempers- I can see there being something like a genie-created disaster, or a bunch of obnoxious types destroying a mortal civilization on a whim, that could lead to the mukhtar, scattered and their power broken, swearing vengeance on all genies from now until the end of time.
Thus begins the long tradition of genie-hunting. And because they are pretty good at combat, can sniff out magic, and have some nifty magic-nullifying toys (I'm sure in the past there must have been even more badass stuff carried by mukhtar hunters, but the one we see is probably at the end of his ancestral supply chain- for him, it's post-apocalypse), they got pretty good at it, developing a fiercesome and mysterious reputation as the slayers and trappers of powerful, magical spirits.
But time marches on, and the generations slowly begin to shrink, and to fade. Their noble history and great city/ies erased, the mukhtar are reduced first to nomadic tribes, then to roaming bands, and finally scattered families carrying on a difficult legacy- even as genies are reduced in number and free power, to remain still a threat, but a rare and often disbelieved one.
And so, we come at last to this Mukhtar, who has heard the stories and ancient songs, been trained by his nest-tenders and successfully hunted genies, but in this day and age is more concerned with making a living than carrying on an ancient blood-feud. That he is occasionally hired to go after just his specialty is merely an enjoyable benefit.
I imagine sometime after the events of the episode "The Hunted", Mukhtar (or his own name) either briefly found a mate in whatever remaining gathering of his kind there was, or initiated reproduction on his own, a la the Dracs of Enemy Mine. It's not the best world for a lizardman to bring children into- but what other choice is there? Simply fade out of existence? No- the time came, as it so rarely does, to make young and to raise a brood of hatchlings, and so he did, following the old traditions, preparing and welcoming them to his body.
But something went wrong, some disaster or other in the meeting-place- or perhaps it's simply the nature of the mukhtar to always be on the move- and Mukhtar has been roaming long past the point when he needed to find a safe place to settle in for a while. He finally encounters someone- I do not know who it is, a helpful stranger, perhaps a friend or someone with a long memory who knows what/who he is, or owes him a favor from a generation back and comes to respond to a desperate signal for aid.
The Mukhtar is in pain, and exhausted, but grudgingly grateful for the company for lack of any of its brothers or sisters, nest-parents or family to help. His young should have been born some time ago, he rasps, but there was never a safe place, never enough time...
But it has all caught up with him, and asking to both be left alone and be guarded, proud but desperate, the night passes and the Mukhtar has quietly given birth, but is still struggling. The movement that was visible earlier- one of the young hatched too early, the egg kept soft by being laid too late. It's painful and messy and embarassing for both parties, but in the end, he's delivered of four viable eggs, two still ones, and a smothered hatchling, too unripe for the world.
The Mukhtar is clearly exhausted, and at the end of his endurance. The stranger helping him gives over some of his water, afraid of the lizard-man dying on him/her and leaving him/her there with this mess of eggs to look out for. S/He makes mention of this, and Mukhtar clenches his talons, vowing that he will not leave his eggs alone.
The rising sun is helping give some of the energy back, and the stranger aids the Mukhtar as best s/he can, keeping him from moving too much. He asks tiredly for the two still eggs, or depending on level of exhaustion, might instruct the helping person to sniff them and to tell him if they are stale or clean.
Either way, with an air of sad, truncated ceremony, the mukhtar pierces the leathery shell with his teeth and drinks down the contents of both of them.* The stranger looks away during this part, but it seems to give the old lizard some strength back, make him look less like he's completely at death's door. There are keened songs into the wind, some explanation later- "We know that many of our young die. That is the way of things. It does not mean we do not wish them all to live."
Eventually, they manage to get to a point where they can make the attempt to travel three days out of the desert, and find civilization. I have been calling Mukhtar's helper a stranger so far, but some of the bits of conversation in my head suggest some knowledge of his kind or him specifically, perhaps. Asking what will he do now, answering that he does not know- his young will grow up without the purpose that has guided his kind since times unknown. And yet, perhaps they are free-er than ever for that. Either way- it is time to go.
*most likely ones that were unfertilized, growing to proper size and nutrient density but without an embryo.
Has this ever happened to anyone else? You think of something from some long-ago bit of media you were never all that into but still liked, and then fall absolutely head over heels in fascination with some terribly minor character who never got much development, but what's there piques your brain?
I was thinking of Aladdin today- the Disney series. And the Mukhtar came to mind- scrawny lizardy fellow who hunts genies and is damn good at it. Youtube came to the rescue and I watched all two episodes wherein he/it was featured.
And now I want to write about the Mukhtar, or, being the lazy fandom-member that I am, read or look at creations of others about him. And what do I find, consulting ff.net, deviantArt, and what few Aladdin fansites are to be found?
Nada.
As I said- he's a very minor one-shot character, from a series that was never a huge sensation (at least not that I ever knew of) that ran before the real heyday of the internet was getting started, and whose fans were mostly of a very young age at the time and whose few sites (at least those I've seen) tend to be aging and stuck on some crappy angelfire host. So among what little fic there is, there's a lesser and lesser chance of there either being any that caters to my desires, or of it being easy to find.
So now I want to read or write about some epic exploration of the Mukhtar's character, why his kind are the sworn enemies of genies, what the history is, what he's been doing with himself since things came to the point of bounty hunting rather than a matter of honor, is he really the last? and what's he going to do about it, what's he going to do with himself from here on out with a genie as a friend and the world his to wander?
Me being me (not always a bad thing, just necessarily an odd one), what came to mind was a scene of him being helped with a difficult birth/egg laying out in the desert (why yes, I have seen and read Enemy Mine), and through that reflecting on some of the histories, the culture, biology, the loneliness and the where-do-we-go-from-here? feeling that I kind of imagine for the character.
...dang.
Just- I know I can't be the only person this sort of thing happens to, with the sudden obssession over the truly obscure bits of fandom. It's entirely uncharted territory, to my knowledge- no one else has put up a fanon on this anywhere I could see it- possibly I'm the only one who cares.
So here's the things that have been playing in my head... (be warned, weirdness toward th' end).
Perhaps the mukhtar were once a major civilization, kind of the old trope of the lost cities and peoples that existed before the current crop of major histories. The Aladdin/Agrabah universe seems like it could support that sort of sword'n'sorcery trope very well, as well as the former dominance of strange lizardmen. Genies, however butchered they are from the original mythology of djinn, probably haven't always been under comeplete control via the wish-making lamp-dwelling slavery forever, and even so, have some pretty hefty power and probably not always the nicest tempers- I can see there being something like a genie-created disaster, or a bunch of obnoxious types destroying a mortal civilization on a whim, that could lead to the mukhtar, scattered and their power broken, swearing vengeance on all genies from now until the end of time.
Thus begins the long tradition of genie-hunting. And because they are pretty good at combat, can sniff out magic, and have some nifty magic-nullifying toys (I'm sure in the past there must have been even more badass stuff carried by mukhtar hunters, but the one we see is probably at the end of his ancestral supply chain- for him, it's post-apocalypse), they got pretty good at it, developing a fiercesome and mysterious reputation as the slayers and trappers of powerful, magical spirits.
But time marches on, and the generations slowly begin to shrink, and to fade. Their noble history and great city/ies erased, the mukhtar are reduced first to nomadic tribes, then to roaming bands, and finally scattered families carrying on a difficult legacy- even as genies are reduced in number and free power, to remain still a threat, but a rare and often disbelieved one.
And so, we come at last to this Mukhtar, who has heard the stories and ancient songs, been trained by his nest-tenders and successfully hunted genies, but in this day and age is more concerned with making a living than carrying on an ancient blood-feud. That he is occasionally hired to go after just his specialty is merely an enjoyable benefit.
I imagine sometime after the events of the episode "The Hunted", Mukhtar (or his own name) either briefly found a mate in whatever remaining gathering of his kind there was, or initiated reproduction on his own, a la the Dracs of Enemy Mine. It's not the best world for a lizardman to bring children into- but what other choice is there? Simply fade out of existence? No- the time came, as it so rarely does, to make young and to raise a brood of hatchlings, and so he did, following the old traditions, preparing and welcoming them to his body.
But something went wrong, some disaster or other in the meeting-place- or perhaps it's simply the nature of the mukhtar to always be on the move- and Mukhtar has been roaming long past the point when he needed to find a safe place to settle in for a while. He finally encounters someone- I do not know who it is, a helpful stranger, perhaps a friend or someone with a long memory who knows what/who he is, or owes him a favor from a generation back and comes to respond to a desperate signal for aid.
The Mukhtar is in pain, and exhausted, but grudgingly grateful for the company for lack of any of its brothers or sisters, nest-parents or family to help. His young should have been born some time ago, he rasps, but there was never a safe place, never enough time...
But it has all caught up with him, and asking to both be left alone and be guarded, proud but desperate, the night passes and the Mukhtar has quietly given birth, but is still struggling. The movement that was visible earlier- one of the young hatched too early, the egg kept soft by being laid too late. It's painful and messy and embarassing for both parties, but in the end, he's delivered of four viable eggs, two still ones, and a smothered hatchling, too unripe for the world.
The Mukhtar is clearly exhausted, and at the end of his endurance. The stranger helping him gives over some of his water, afraid of the lizard-man dying on him/her and leaving him/her there with this mess of eggs to look out for. S/He makes mention of this, and Mukhtar clenches his talons, vowing that he will not leave his eggs alone.
The rising sun is helping give some of the energy back, and the stranger aids the Mukhtar as best s/he can, keeping him from moving too much. He asks tiredly for the two still eggs, or depending on level of exhaustion, might instruct the helping person to sniff them and to tell him if they are stale or clean.
Either way, with an air of sad, truncated ceremony, the mukhtar pierces the leathery shell with his teeth and drinks down the contents of both of them.* The stranger looks away during this part, but it seems to give the old lizard some strength back, make him look less like he's completely at death's door. There are keened songs into the wind, some explanation later- "We know that many of our young die. That is the way of things. It does not mean we do not wish them all to live."
Eventually, they manage to get to a point where they can make the attempt to travel three days out of the desert, and find civilization. I have been calling Mukhtar's helper a stranger so far, but some of the bits of conversation in my head suggest some knowledge of his kind or him specifically, perhaps. Asking what will he do now, answering that he does not know- his young will grow up without the purpose that has guided his kind since times unknown. And yet, perhaps they are free-er than ever for that. Either way- it is time to go.
*most likely ones that were unfertilized, growing to proper size and nutrient density but without an embryo.