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@killingmoonlight
Also remade Alanna’s look as Moze’s djinni. I think the original look fits better for her being his djinni, tbh. This strikes me more as almost his wife or something. Or a female version of him...oh dear, now I’m getting ideas...
@killingmoonlight
So I made another dress up of Alanna as Yusuke’s djinni. Based her outfit on his training clothes. Of course, she has long sleeves instead of a sleeveless top because it’s a lot colder in Japan than in Agrabah. And the sleeves hide the cuffs on her wrists for the most part, too.
@killingmoonlight
Alanna as Yusuke’s djinni
If I remember correctly, the second one for both this and the Genkai ones was the more accurate.
You Should Rest
@arabian-necromancer
Continued from here
Alanna frowned. She knew that cough. She’d heard it too often as a child. From her mother. What started as a simple cold turned to something much worse when it wasn’t taken care of. She wasn’t going to let it get to that point again. She wasn’t going to let her life be turned upside down again because another person she’d grown close to--despite her master’s attempts to stay aloof--wouldn’t take care of himself. So instead of backing down as she had with past masters, she squared her shoulders and stood her ground.
“No. You’re going to rest now, or I’m going to pick you up and drag you to your bed and make you rest.”
Mozenrath wasn’t a kind master, but he wasn’t overtly cruel to her like some of her past masters, and she knew he could very easily send her back to her bottle or do far worse, but she didn’t care. He couldn’t die, thanks to the only wish he’d made of her, but if he didn’t take care of himself, then it wouldn’t matter that he was immortal. If his cold too the same turn as her mother’s illness, then Mozenrath wouldn’t be conscious or lucid often enough to enjoy his immortality.
You Found Me
Their mother was sick. Dying. With what little Marjanah and Alanna earned weaving for a rug vendor, they couldn’t afford much by way of food or medicine, and Marjanah always gave her children the bigger portion. “You’re growing children, you need it more than I,” she would say when Alanna and Aladdin protested. Malnutrition only made it easier for the illness to take hold, and soon she was too weak to leave her pallet. They were lucky Marjanah’s employer Hasib was married to a woman kind enough to bring them food and keep the three of them fed, but without Marjanah able to work, what little Alanna could continue to earn–and that was an even smaller amount than her mother alone would have earned–disappeared quickly with each visit to the apothecary for medicine.
It wasn’t enough. None of the remedies the apothecary made did any good. Marjanah’s strength waned further each day, and neither of her children could stand by and watch their amah fade.
Alanna went looking for solutions. For ways she and Aladdin could at least try to save Marjanah. Finally, when they were truly desperate, she heard a tale from a traveling storyteller that sounded like it just might be what they were looking for. The storyteller told of the Majlis al Jinn, the Meeting Place of the Djinn, and an artifact hidden there that could cure any ill. So that was where she decided she would go.
Aladdin refused to be left behind while his sister went to search for this mysterious artifact. No matter how Alanna tried to get him to stay and help take care of Marjanah, her little brother–stubborn little ten-year-old boy that he was–insisted on accompanying her. And eventually Alanna gave in.
The siblings traveled for days before they found the Majlis al Jinn, but find it they did. Unlike its location, the artifact was easy to find, and Alanna soon had it tucked into her satchel as they returned to Agrabah. But their brief victory was not meant to last. As they reached their meager hovel, a djinni–intimidating and looking to be made completely of flame–appeared before them, blocking their path.
“You have stolen from the djinn. Return what you stole, or face punishment.”
Alanna pushed Aladdin behind her and clutched at her satchel. “But we need it to help our amah. Please! I will return it when she’s well again.”
The djinni repeated its claim, and when Alanna tried to reason with it once more, it ignored her pleas. “You have stolen from the djinn to further your own desires. Now your fate shall be to serve the desires of others.” Almost instantly, orange-red smoke surrounded Alanna and pulled her into a bottle that suddenly appeared in the street. When the smoke dissipated, she had vanished. As had the bottle, the artifact, and the djinni.
Alanna had no idea how much time had passed since then. She’d already been found by multiple masters in many different lands, and time passed differently within her bottle. It could have been as little as a few weeks or as long as a few centuries, though she truly doubted the former. She’d been fifteen when the djinni--an ifrit, she had later found out, thanks to one of her more knowledgeable masters having a book on magical creatures--had cursed her, and she was at least eighteen now. At least, that was how old she had been when her body stopped aging. She didn’t know how long it had been since then. She only hoped Aladdin was all right. That he had manage to find some way to save their mother.
When she felt her bottle being picked up, she immediately sat up on the cushions that served as the bed where she spent most of her time in her bottle. She hoped her newest master would at least be relatively kinder than her last. Her most recent master had been rather cruel and blamed Alanna for his wishes going awry when it was really his own fault for not phrasing them carefully despite her warnings.
A now-familiar reddish orange smoke surrounded her and flowed out of the mouth of her bottle, depositing Alanna on the ground before her new master. She immediately bowed her head and spoke the words that had become rote, gesturing so three ruby-like wishes appeared in her new master’s hand as she did.
“Master mine, my will is thine. Tell me your wishes three.” Once the words had left her lips, Alanna looked up. And her mouth dropped open. “Allah above...Aladdin?” The young man who’d found her bottle looked so similar to the ten-year-old she remembered, only taller and older, that the name had escaped her mouth before she could stop it.
Tortured Timeless
Alanna didn’t know how long she’d been imprisoned. Time seemed to flow differently in this place, but it wasn’t the same as when she was in her bottle. It was like time literally flowed differently. And she could feel the pure dark magic everywhere, making it so she could barely breathe.
She didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d somehow been yanked from within her bottle and thrown into this...place...This dungeon. From the start of her imprisonment, she had been in almost constant pain. Her captor was careful, precise, never doing anything that could cause Alanna to automatically return to her bottle. Besides which, every wound healed almost instantaneously. At least, that was how it was at first, while the djinni was only bound by the strange feline woman’s magic. It wasn’t long, however, before iron shackles were clasped around her wrists, cutting Alanna off from her own magic and halting any benefits it could have given her.
Since that moment, she had been cut and clawed and strangled and shocked and burned and frozen...her bones had been broken and repaired and broken again...innumerable tortures with no sign of stopping, and whenever the woman--Mirage, she’d introduced herself as at one point, Alanna thought--ran out of room to add to the wounds, she healed a couple and continued on. Alanna had passed out--or perhaps even died--and been revived multiple times already, and she had no doubt it would happen again before Mirage decided she was done.
Eventually, she was left alone, chained with more iron and hanging by her shackles from the stone ceiling of the chamber. She drifted in and out of consciousness, only aware of the agony which had become her constant companion. She gave no thought to being rescued or whether her master had even noticed she was gone. For all she knew, it may have only been a single second since she had returned to her bottle, replayed in a loop to allow Mirage infinite time to torture her. Or it may have been days or weeks. At this point, Alanna had no concept of time, and it didn’t matter if she knew how much time had passed.
💬 ~ arabian-necromancer
Send me 💬 and my muse will describe yours in three words.
“Master, dark...concerned.”
Bonds of Family and Fate
Their mother was sick. Dying. With what little Marjanah and Alanna earned weaving for a rug vendor, they couldn't afford much by way of food or medicine, and Marjanah always gave her children the bigger portion. "You're growing children, you need it more than I," she would say when Alanna and Aladdin protested. Malnutrition only made it easier for the illness to take hold, and soon she was too weak to leave her pallet. They were lucky Marjanah's employer Hasib was married to a woman kind enough to bring them food and keep the three of them fed, but without Marjanah able to work, what little Alanna could continue to earn--and that was an even smaller amount than her mother alone would have earned--disappeared quickly with each visit to the apothecary for medicine.
It wasn't enough. None of the remedies the apothecary made did any good. Marjanah's strength waned further each day, and neither of her children could stand by and watch their amah fade.
Alanna went looking for solutions. For ways she and Aladdin could at least try to save Marjanah. Finally, when they were truly desperate, she heard a tale from a traveling storyteller that sounded like it just might be what they were looking for. The storyteller told of the Majlis al Jinn, the Meeting Place of the Djinn, and an artifact hidden there that could cure any ill. So that was where she decided she would go.
Aladdin refused to be left behind while his sister went to search for this mysterious artifact. No matter how Alanna tried to get him to stay and help take care of Marjanah, her little brother--stubborn little ten-year-old boy that he was--insisted on accompanying her. And eventually Alanna gave in.
The siblings traveled for days before they found the Majlis al Jinn, but find it they did. Unlike its location, the artifact was easy to find, and Alanna soon had it tucked into her satchel as they returned to Agrabah. But their brief victory was not meant to last. As they reached their meager hovel, a djinni--intimidating and looking to be made completely of flame--appeared before them, blocking their path.
"You have stolen from the djinn. Return what you stole, or face punishment."
Alanna pushed Aladdin behind her and clutched at her satchel. "But we need it to help our amah. Please! I will return it when she's well again."
The djinni repeated its claim, and when Alanna tried to reason with it once more, it ignored her pleas. "You have stolen from the djinn to further your own desires. Now your fate shall be to serve the desires of others." Almost instantly, orange-red smoke surrounded Alanna and pulled her into a bottle that suddenly appeared in the street. When the smoke dissipated, she had vanished. As had the bottle, the artifact, and the djinni.
Nearly ten years later, that bottle reappeared in Agrabah, where Mozenrath found it and took it back to his palace in the Land of Black Sands.
@arabian-necromancer @riff-raff-prince
