Armageddon Express

<< < Chapter Six > >>

As the timeship spun through the Temporal Vortex, inside the Duke was racing around the centre column; occasionally stopping by a section of the console to adjust a lever, press a button, or check a screen.
  "It's a bit rough!" called out Officer Edison from the couch, as he cradled his head. "Can you ease up? It's giving me a headache."
  "That is the perfectly normal, tempo-spatial ebb and flow of the vortex," said the Duke, turning a dial, before striding to the other side of the console. "Your headache is psychosomatic, Inspector."
  "Psychosomatic? You think it's all in my head?"
  "I thought all headaches were in your head," said Anise, as she braced herself in a doorframe to stay upright.
  "It's not real," insisted the Duke, "you're just feeling uneasy because of your recent trauma."
  "How can you say it's not real! I had nanites in my brain," said Edison.
  "You don't have to believe me, Inspector," said the Duke, "it's not like I'm a doctor."
The Duke deactivated the ignition lever, and the ship stopped rumbling with a thud.
  "Oh, thank goodness," said Officer Edison, finally standing up from the couch. "Where are we now?"
  "I decided it was about time that we should travel beyond your homeworld's solar system. This is, after all, a space vessel, so we've travelled to another galaxy."
  "We're in space?" said Anise, sounding excited.
  "No, actually we're on a planet. I'm not sure which, but we are within the Andromeda Constellation."
  "We're on an alien planet?!" squealed Anise.
  "Yes, we are. Would you care to explore an alien world with me, Miss Trevino?" asked the Duke.
  "Absolutely," said Anise. They both headed towards the elevator door, which opened automatically as they approached it. Edison rose to join them as the doors slid open, but Anise and the Duke both stopped and stared through the door, surprised. "What the hell?" muttered Anise.
They were looking into a narrow room, with patterned, lime-green wallpaper. To the left was a line of cabinets along the first part of the wall with a black benchtop; then a heavy iron safe bolted in halfway along the floor and a heavy, oak desk pushed into the far corner. To the right were two cosy, ornate lounge-chairs with chartreuse upholstery, around a small, round pedestal table; a large cabinet built into the middle of the right wall, with an embedded ladder leading to the recess in the ceiling and a hanging seat to look outside. The black wood floors wore a Persian runner rug, also green, leading from the console room door to the door at the end.
There were a couple of windows either side looking out on the landscape. By the way the rocky landscape whipped past the window and the entire room rattled and swayed with a heavy rhythm, the two quickly understood that they were looking at the inside of some kind of train carriage. Anise was the first to step out, and as she did, she felt the momentum and sway of the carriage, and stumbled slightly.
  "Uh . . . Duke? What happened to the Lift lobby?" she asked, turning around.
  "You're standing in it," said the Duke, admiring the carriage. "The chameleon circuit is capable of transforming the plasmic shell into any number of shapes and visages. Marvellous, isn't it?" said the Duke with a smile.  Edison looked out the door, and was intrigued.
  "But, I thought the ship always took the shape of some kind of lift," said Edison.
  "Well, yes . . ." muttered the Duke. "Within the chameleon conversion I selected 'elevator' in preferences, but when that form proves too difficult, or conspicuous, the ship will change into the next best thing."
  "And the next best thing was a train?" asked Edison, as he walked to the end of the carriage.
  "Not a train, this is just a caboose," said the Duke, as he searched his surroundings. "There you are . . ." muttered the Duke, as he popped open the secret panel beside the console room doors, and used his key to shut and lock the doors. The doors slid shut, their exterior taking on the facade of green, wooden, folding doors, then he closed the panel.
  "If this is just a caboose, then what's pulling us?" asked Edison glancing at the dark-green door.
  "I don't really know . . ." said the Duke with a frown, returning the key to its place around his neck, tucked under his shirt. "The ship must have materialized onto the back of this train. If we want to know our location - and destination - we'll have to find out for ourselves."
  "Alright, let's go then," said Edison, opening the door. He stepped out, and the Duke, with Anise behind, walked over to join him. They stood on a platform, surrounded by a cast-iron railing with a ladder on one end, which stepped over a gap straight to the next carriage. It didn't have a platform, it was just a thick, studded iron face, painted pale green, with a single, iron, sliding door embedded in it. There was a round mechanism in the door, with a recess and a bar across it, that looked like the handle. Edison grabbed it and tugged it a few times.
  "Allow me," said the Duke. Edison stepped aside, and the Duke grabbed the handle, pressed the clasp within and twisted it. With a beep, the door unlatched and the Duke slid it open and stepped inside the carriage, only to find himself facing a carriage-load of soldiers. They were benches running along either side of the carriage, filled with soldiers, and upon seeing the Duke they all stood, raised their rifles and pointed them at the intruder.
Anise screamed and raised her hands, and Edison slowly raised his own hands, with a grim expression on his face. The Duke just stood before them.
  "Hands where I can see them!" barked one of the soldiers at the front, jutting his gun towards the Duke. The soldiers were all wearing some kind of forest green uniform, scattered with pockets; a cast-iron breastplate with leather straps; and a bowl-like, metal helmet with goggles. The Duke raised his hands, lamely and to the height of his shoulders.
  "Do you call yourself soldiers?" asked the Duke, coldly.
  "Identify yourself!" said that soldier in the front. The Duke slowly - and making obvious movements so the soldiers wouldn't shoot - grabbed the lapel of his jacket, then pulled it away to give full view of his right side, then reached into his trouser pocket with his other hand and retrieved a small, slightly worn, maroon, pocketbook with a gold emblem on the cover that looked like an octopus. A page was marked with a blue ribbon, so he opened the book to that page and held it before the soldiers. He gave them a moment to read it before he spoke.
  "I'm the Duke of Rathea," said the Duke, then he rose his voice and yelled at the man. "Now, answer my a question, Private! Do you call yourself soldiers?!"
  "Sir, yes sir!" said the soldier at the front, lowering his rifle. He turned to the others and said, "lower your weapons. Commander on deck."
They complied.
 "Only the one of you? When I ask a question, I expect an answer from the lot of you! Do you call yourself soldiers?!" yelled the Duke, his voice sounding slightly sore and hoarse at that volume.
  "SIR! YES, SIR!" responded the carriage, in a chorus of eager, young men.
  "Well, you could have fooled me!" said the Duke, putting the pocketbook into his jacket and crossing his arms behind his back. "I've never seen such a rag-tag sack of spawn in all my years on the frontline! Where I'm from we stand at attention in the presence of a commanding officer, do I make myself clear?!"
  "YES, SIR!" responded the carriage, And all the men slung their rifles over their shoulders and with a rustle of feet stood in front of their respective seats, facing inward with their feet together, in two lines either side of the walkway.
Anise and Edison lowered their hands, and watched, fascinated, as the Duke began to pace up and down that walkway yelling so the men could hear. The walkway was basically an iron grille, and the metal clanged with his every footfall.
  "Now, through means and for purposes you need not understand, I have boarded this train with two of my associates! You will treat them with the utmost respect!" screamed the Duke. Edison and Anise then stepped inside the troopers' carriage, glancing around nervously. The Duke reached the end of the walkway, turned, and marched back, still yelling.
"You will answer every question, perform every task and accomplish any duty asked by myself or either of my associates, to the best of your ability! Do I make myself clear?!!"
  "YES, SIR!" replied the carriage.
  "Damned right," said the Duke, at a reasonable volume, "we might just make soldiers out of you, yet . . ."
  "What's going on?" asked Edison, walking up to join the Duke in the middle of the walkway.
  "I'm a Grand Duke, I outrank them hundredfold," said the Duke. They turned to the sound of Anise, as she spoke to one of the soldiers.
  "What's your name?" she asked, crossing her arms.
  "Daw, Ma'am," said the soldier, he swiftly and enthusiastically placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head as a form of salute, then returned to standing at attention, staring directly ahead.
  "Woah, easy tiger," said Anise, with a smirk. In response, the soldier named Daw placed his feet further apart and crossed his arms behind his back to stand at ease.
  "Yes, ma'am," he said, mechanically.
  "Now tell me, what planet is this?"
  "This is Lugor, ma'am," said Daw, matter-of-factly.
  "And where is this train goin'?" Anise asked.
  "To war," said the soldier, grimly. The Duke walked over to join the conversation.
  "Soldier, how many more men are aboard this train?" asked the Duke.
  "Sixty more soldiers, sir," said Daw. "Half a dozen or so techs, including train crew."
  "Well, I don't want any more guns pointed in my face," said the Duke, "I want you to run to the front of this train and let them know I'm here, then report back to me, on the double."
  "Yes, sir," said Daw. He placed his hand on his chest, nodded and started jogging his way along the train, squeezing past Edison to disappear through the far door.
  "We'd best continue on," muttered the Duke, then he called to the carriage, "As you were, gentlemen!"
The soldiers started to relax once the Duke moved on to the next carriage. As Edison stepped between the carriages, he noticed that the next carriage was a different model; it was somewhat shorter, and he caught a glimpse of a gun turret on the roof before stepping into the cramped carriage. It was like a submarine, cramped, no windows, lit only by a few ceiling lamps and cramped working stations in each of the four corners, held binders, pencils, paper and sat a wooden stool. From the ceiling, suspended seats, which must have controlled the gun-turrets, were set with periscope visors jutting near the chair's headpiece and attached to a mechanism of crank wheels and levers.
This carriage was empty, so the Duke closed the doors behind Anise and turned to his companions.
  "That went pretty well, considering," said the Duke.
  "Pretty well? You're like an army sergeant!" said Anise, impressed.
  "That's because I am one," said the Duke, "I've fought in wars before, Anise, to defend my people. A long time ago . . ."
  "But what are we doing in here?" asked Edison.
  "I needed to talk to you two in private," said the Duke. "I had to let you know that we are all in danger."
  "Danger? What kind of danger?" asked Edison.
  "Surely you noticed? The soldiers are on edge. When we entered the carriage, they all trained their weapons on us, with but a moment's notice. As I walked down the line, I saw their faces. They're all scared and I can feel it."
  "They're soldiers, they're about to head into war."
  "No, this is greater than that. And I want to find out what is causing it."
  "Then why didn't you ask?" said Edison. "You've got them under your thumb."
  "That's precisely why I didn't ask. If I am to keep us safe, I must stay in command of these men. But if they realize that I don't know what we're facing, I would lose their loyalty, and we would become disposable. I need one of you to ask for me."
  "Alright," said Anise. But there's something I still don't understand. How come they all look human? I thought you said they were aliens."
  "They are human, and they're aliens." explained the Duke, "The Lugosians are human, I'm not sure if they migrated from your solar system, or if this is a genetic anomaly . . . wait a minute. Shh! Listen."
The Duke stopped speaking. The others listened carefully, and they heard a train whistle in the distance. Quiet, but it was unmistakeably a train's whistle blaring.
  "What does that mean?" whispered Anise
  "Battle Stations!" called a muffled voice behind them. "Battle stations!"
Some of the carriages ahead were also yelling. Suddenly, the door behind them slid open and the Duke and his companions had to jump out of the way as six men entered. Four each manned one of the desks and the other two sat in the suspended seat for the gun turret.
  "Look alive, men!" yelled the Duke, "don't act like this is a drill!"
  "Yes sir!" called the men. Just then, the door opened again, and Private Daw stepped in.
  "Duke? I've done as you asked, sir," he reported.
  "Very good. Now, I want you to stay here, and keep Miss Trevino safe," he said, turning for the door.
  "Yes, sir."
  "What? Well, where do you think you're going?" Anise asked.
  "To check on the soldiers and keep them in line."
  "What about me?" called Edison.
  "You should find out everything you can about the enemy!" replied the Duke as he stepped through the front door and exited the carriage.
  "I've got visual," said the soldier in the turret chair, "Rotation, one eighty-four; angle, eighteen. There's a flock on our tail."
  "Distance?" asked the guy at the desk, opening one of the books.
  "Out of range," said the gunner, "but approaching fast . . ."
Edison turns to Anise.
  "I'd better get going. Stay safe, alright?" said the Inspector.
  "You boys all seem to forget, I've saved Duke before, I'm not like some kinda damsel."
  "I know, Anise. Trust me I know, but this is war . . ." said Edison, he stepped closer and whispered, "there are no heroes, only survivors."
Edison turned and headed for the front door, after the Duke. As he slid it open, they could hear gunfure. It didn't sound like they were firing bullets, but rather they seemed to buzz and fizzle, making a loud crackling zap as each shot was fired. Suddenly, Anise jumped at the sound of the gun turret firing, it sounded like a crackling explosion.
  "That's bloody loud!" shouted Anise.
  "It's a big gun, ma'am," said Daw, "big gun means a big noise."
Anise flinched as the gun fired again, clamping her hands over her ears.
  "Why do you need such a big gun, anyway?" grumbled Anise.
  "The wraive fight en masse," explained Daw, "explosive shots, like those of these cannons, makes a hole in their forward line."
  "The 'rave'?"
  "Yes," said Daw, "that's what we're fighting. Civilians don't know, but didn't the duke tell you?" The cannon fired again.
  "Duke doesn't tell me everything," said Anise. "So why don't you explain something to me. You said we're going to war. What do you mean by that? Where exactly is this train going?"
  "The Wraive homeworld," said Daw.
  "On a train?" asked Anise.
  "On a spaceship," explained Daw. The cannon fired again, but neither of them flinched. "We're leaving Lugor."

At the front of the train, in the locomotive, the driver's cabin, the Duke swiftly steps onto the rear-calf of the locomotive. It was small, with extinguishers, cooling fans and wires neatly wrapped around the walls, and a large machine that took up most of the floor space. It was roughly a cube shape with segment cut into the front so it somewhat resembled a loungechair. The back half was wires, and radiation vents edged with a colourful glow, but the front was encased in a round-edged, cream-coloured metal cover with stylistic, chrome details. In the front segment was an embedded monitor with two sets of keyboards in front of it, One with forty-two runic letters and some ideographic function keys, the other with thirty-four circular symbols were arranged in the shape of a flower.
The Duke was intrigued by the design, but didn't give it a second glance, as he passed through the next door into the driver's cabin, where two sweaty men in green overalls were panicking as they adjusted the controls. The room was stinking hot and smelt like grease and diesel, and deafening with the sound of the chugging engine. The entire front wall was taken up with monitoring stations and panels covered in square, back-lit switches; black dials; gauges with quivering needles; several palm-sized crank wheels and a collection of long-handled levers, all of which the men seemed to be checking or adjusting gas quickly as they could.
  "How's she doing?!" yelled the Duke, trying to be heard over the sound of the thundering engine. "You're exhausting a lot of black smoke."
  "She's getting hot!" said one of the engineers, the taller one. "We're blacklining!"
  "What does that mean?!" asked the Duke.
  "Off the Meter!" screamed the other engineer in the seat, obviously the driver. He tapped one of the gauges, and sure enough the needle was angled further than the integers on the dial. "We're going uphill, it's overloading the engine!"
  "Can't we slow down?!" said the Duke. Both the engineers glanced back at him, and they looked absolutely horrified.
  "No!" screamed the tall, greasy engineer. "We can't slow down!"
The two of them turned back to their work.
  "Why not?!"
  “We’ll miss the launch!” yelled the engineer.
  "Chough!" screamed the driver, grabbing the scruff of the engineer's overalls, he pulled him to his feet to look out through the horizontal slit that was the front driver's window. "Chough, look! Those bloody turkeys are attacking the engine!"
The Duke stepped behind the two to see, but could only make out something dark grey on the right side of the slat, most likely the engine casing, and a flurry of black shadow wildly flitting about in the restrictive line of vision.
  "Can they cause any damage?!" asked the Duke
  "They've toppled cities, I think they can tear apart one train!" shouted the driver.
  "Do you have any weapons?!" demanded the Duke. Chough shrugged, but he slowly looked around, and his eyes landed on the tool closet. The door was open, and hanging on the rack was a giant wrench, about a metre long.
  "What are you planning on doing?!" he asked.
  "Whatever I can to keep this train going," said the Duke. He walked towards the tool closet.

  "I'm empty!" called out one of the soldiers, stepping back from the row of soldiers at the viewing slat. Edison watched as one of the patrolling soldiers took his place, then the replaced man opened one of the overhead racks and carefully took out a small, metal box. He tried to open the box, but had trouble gripping with his fingers.
  "Let me help, soldier," said Edison, taking the box from him.
  "Thank you, sir, my fingers feel numb," said the man, talking over the bouts of gunfire. He opened up a small cover on the top of his rifle, to reveal a small, orange crystal, about an inch long,
  "It's alright," said Edison, staring at the crystal. He opened the box in his hands to find it filled with identical crystals, except the ones in the box were glowing a bright yellow. He handed one to the soldier.
  "Thanks," he said, loading his gun. The gun hummed softly for a moment as he turned and joined the soldiers patrolling the carriage.
Suddenly, there was a loud clang from the ceiling, and a sound of scraping and scuttling.
  "Wraive, on the roof!" shouted one man. Soldiers instinctively pointed their guns up towards the sound.
  "You can't shoot through the roof!" shouted Edison, "it's armoured, put your guns down!"
The men lowered their weapons, and the firing ceased for a moment, so the only sound was the scraping and scratching above them, like rats on a tin roof. Suddenly it stopped.
  "Alright, calm down," said Edison, "keep your head in the game-"
  "Wraive!" screamed one of the men by a window. Suddenly, four men at the nearest gun-slit jumped back, as claws and beaks burst through the small gap, blocking out the like and scratching like mad cats.
One of the men was caught by a claw, and dropped his rifle. He pulled back, but started screaming as he found he was he was stuck a foot away from the window, with a wrinkled, pale grey limb snagged onto his forearm. it had buried its claws deep into his skin, and he was bleeding freely.
  "Stand back!" yelled Edison. He drew his gun, aimed carefully and fired.
Bang! the creature screeched angrily, but didn't let go, Bang! With the second shot, the creature broke free and its leg disappeared through the slit. The man fell back, with red blood spilling from his forearm. He looked terrified. One of the soldiers, knelt down beside him to try to calm him down. Edison joined him and helped the man to sit down on the floor, in the middle of the other men.
  "It's gonna be alright," said Edison.
  "Is there a medic in here?!" called out the other soldier, looking around.
  "Raise your arm above your head," said Edison. The man tried, but cried out in pain, making one of the other men flinch.
  "It hurts," said the injured soldier, "and I can't feel my fingers."
  "Are you a doctor, sir?" asked one of the soldiers.
  "No, I'm a D.I., a policeman."
  "Policeman? Is that some kind of soldier?"
  "I suppose, yeah . . ."
From the distance, they heard a dull boom then a loud squealing, like brakes.
  "What's that?" asked Edison, and before he could brace himself he was thrown forwards as the carriage collided with the one in front and began slowing down.
The train was stopping.

  "Hold on, Ma'am!" screamed Private Daw, grabbing Anise by the arm to keep her on her feet as he braced against the turret chair with his other hand. The carriage slammed into the next and they began to slow.
  "Thank you," said Anise, regaining her balance. "Why are we stopping?"
  "I have no idea," said Daw. "It must be serious, we can't stop too long."
  "How come?" asked Anise, frowning. "Why are you in such a rush to go to war?"
  "If we don't leave before the launch, we won't leave at all."
The train kept slowing and slowing, the wheels squealing, until they rattled to a stop.
  "Oh . . ." replied Anise.
The train fell silent. Daw let go of Anise’s arm and she stood there for a moment, quietly.
  “What now?” she asked.
Suddenly, the door to the carriage slid back.
  “Make way, injured man coming through,” said Edison.
  “Watch the gunner-seat!” called a man behind them. Edison lead the way to the middle of the carriage while two men walked side by side, one of them bleeding heavily from his forearm.
  “It’ll be alright,” said the soldier walking beside him. He wore glasses and had a soothing voice.
  “What happened?” asked Anise.
  “One of the creatures got him.”
  “A wraive?”
  “Yeah,” said Edison. The two of them watched as the bespectacled soldier inspected the wound and stood to fetch a medkit.
  “Wow,” said Anise, staring at the man’s arm, she took a step forward. “There’s so much . . . blood. Can I help him?”
  “No, stand back,” said Edison, putting a hand on her shoulder. “First rule of wound safety, don’t touch the victim’s blood. It can spread bloodborne diseases.”
Anise felt something in her throat and swallowed, anxiously.
  “I should go find Duke,” she said, frowning.
  “It’s alright, ma’am,” said Daw, “I'll find the Duke and appraise him of the situation.” He put his hand to his chest, nodded and disappeared out the door of the carriage.
Anise was left standing by Edison, watching the bespectacled soldier try to calm down the injured soldier, before disinfecting the wound with rubbing alcohol. The man screamed in pain.

Daw ran through the length of the train, looking for the Duke, when he passed through the rear-calf and into the driver's cabin of the locomotive.
  "Duke, sir?" he inquired, sounding puffed from running. He found the Duke talking animatedly to the driver. They hadn't noticed him
  "Can you fix it while the train is in motion?" asked the Duke.
  "We can't move!" screamed the driver.
  "I didn't ask that," growled the Duke, "I need to know if you can fix it while aboard the locomotive, with the engine disengaged from the wheels, and without stepping foot on ground."
  "Uh . . . aye, we could."
  "That's what I needed to know. So, you start fixing it, I'll get the train moving!"
  "We can't, we have to abandon this train before they hits us!"
  "There's not enough time for you to question my every order!" roared the Duke, furious. "Just fix the goddamned train!"
The driver frowned, then shook his head, grabbed the large wrench from the floor and headed outside towards the broken engine, swearing under his breath.
  "Duke, sir!" called out Daw.
  "What?!" snapped the Duke.
  "I'm sorry, sir," said Daw, with a Lugosian Salute. "A soldier's been injured, and Miss Trevino wants to know why we've stopped."
  "Oh, right . . . thank you for your report, Private Daw," said the Duke, rubbing his temples with one hand. "Soldier, next I'll I need you to send out a new order to the men on the train. A direct order from me."
  "Yes sir, what is it, sir?"
  "Tell everyone that the cooling system for the engine is broken and it will take half an hour to fix. In the meantime . . . we need to get the train moving."
  "Excuse me, sir?" said Daw.
  "I've just been informed that there's another train behind us, on a collision course, and they're not slowing down. They'll roll right through us. So I need everyone to get off the train." said the Duke.
  "Are we abandoning the train, sir?" asked Daw.
  "No," said the Duke, sternly, "we're going to get out and push."

As the message was passed on down the train, soldiers began to disembark until no one was left except the injured soldier, the soldier that was medicating him, the driver, the engineer and the four technicians. The rest began organizing themselves alongside the train.
To the left side of the tracks, to the direction they were travelling, there was a craggy cliff-face. They were standing on a dusty plateau, artificially carved into the rock, for the train-line, barely ten metres wide; and off to the right, there was a beautiful vista of green and purple, rolling hills. Either the grass was mauve, or this was a valley of violets, dipping and falling like a heavy blanket. The hills were broken up only by a smattering of wide, shallow lakes, that perfectly reflected the soft, yellow sky above, scattered with white, cottony clouds.
The Duke was standing by the right side of the locomotive, a magnificent beast of iron, engineering, stream-lining and raw, diesel-fuelled power; it was still overheated, and heat rippled in an aura around it. Down by the carriages, Anise spotted the Duke and she ran up to join him with Edison walking to catch up from behind her.
  "Duke!" she said, excited "Can you believe this? It's stunning. The sky is yellow, I've never seen anything like it."
  "It is pleasant," said the Duke, he turned to look at Anise, with a brief smile in the corner of his mouth, then he looked up at the sky. "The air's breathable, so it must be a particulate in the upper atmosphere."
  "It's beautiful," said Anise.
  "What's going on? Why did we stop?" asked Edison, as he walked up to the Duke.
  "A wraive attacked the cooling system and the engine overheated, and the expansion caused it to lock up. So, we're preparing to push the train, to get out of the way of the train that's behind us" said the Duke. "The soldiers are already getting into position."
  "But, what good will that do?" asked Edison. "They say there's a train behind us, we can't outrun it."
  "Come here," said the Duke, putting his right arm around Edison's shoulder and pointing down the tracks with his left, "Look there. Can you see that?"
Edison peered down the line and almost two-hundred metres away he could see what looked like a line fencepost.
  "Yeah, what is that?"
  "The track splits up ahead," said the Duke, motioning his hand, as though tracing the lines of the railway, "and there's a lever to switch it manually. We just need to get there."
  "That's an awfully long way to pull a train," said Edison. "Can't we just ask the train behind us to stop?"
  "I already did," said the Duke, grimly. "They refused."
  "What? Why not, that's insane."
  "If you'll excuse me, I think we're ready to begin," said the Duke, turning back to the soldiers. He stepped between some of the soldiers to get to the side-steps which lead into the train. He climbed to the top and leaned out of the railing, so he could see everyone down that side of the train.
  "Alright, soldiers!" screamed the Duke, again, his voice sounding hoarse and ragged at the volume. "Can you hear me!"
  "SIR, YES SIR!" yelled the soldiers in response, as they turned to see him, they saluted in unison, clapping a hand to their chest and nodding their head.
  "Then listen up and pay attention! This train-" he kicked the train for effect, with a dull thunk "- weighs several thousand tonnes! If we are going to move an inch, we have to work together! I need you all to grab ahold of some part of this train! Come on, right now! Grab ahold! But don't push yet!"
The Duke watched as the entire line of men leaned in towards the train, many around the back of carriages, but some were grabbing onto the gaps in the doors, or onto the armour around wheels. The Duke quickly opened the door to the cabin and went straight through to the other side, leaning out to check on the left side of the train. They were also grabbing onto the train.
  "That's it, hold firm!" yelled the Duke. "This first part will be the hardest! So, you need a good grip! But once we get rolling, we just need to keep it moving! Don't stop pushing for a second!"
The Duke returned to the other side and looked alongside the locomotive. He smiled when he saw Edison and Anise grabbing onto the frame.
  "Good work, Inspector; Miss Trevino."
  "You said, everyone," said Edison.
  "That I did," said the Duke, jumping off the train, then he turned to continue yelling his orders "Alright, soldiers! I want every single one of you! RIGHT now! To start pushing, with everything you've got! and when I yell "Heave!" you will take one step!"
The Duke watched as people leant forward, pulled, pushed and strained with all their might. Very gradually, he saw the wheels start to move a few centimetres.
  "HEAVE!!" screamed the Duke. Very slowly, every began walking, and the train rolled forward a foot. "HEAVE! That's it, just keep going! Keep it up! We're moving!" screamed the Duke. Then he too ran towards the locomotive, grabbed ahold of the side and started pushing as well.
  "Holy crap this is heavy," said Anise, through gritted teeth. "It's like pushin' a house."
  "A stubborn house," added Edison.
  "Don't speak. Push," grunted the Duke. It was very slow going, they took about three steps every ten seconds, but the train was definitely moving.
It rumbled slowly as the wheels were forced forward, and the wheel-coupling rod creaked and groaned grumpily, stubborn as an old goat. As the wheels turned a full rotation, the engine squealed and the valve chest hissed, but despite how much the iron goliath groaned and complained, it continued to trundle on, pushed by the indomitable force of determined soldiers. The iron titan lumbered forward with the immense gravity and grace of an ancient mammoth, ignorant of what dangers crept up behind it, or the enemy that haunted the sky.
As the soldiers pushed on the outside, within the cabin the engineer and the driver were working hard to get the engine moving under its own power again. The engine may not have been running, but locomotive and crew were moving like a well-oiled machine. They made it more than halfway before there was any sign of trouble.
It started with the sound of squealing. They could barely hear it over the sound of their creaking and groaning locomotive, but they heard occasional the squeaks of screaming metal on metal, off in the distance. Then suddenly, there was a sudden clunk from the carriage behind and the locomotive's steady progress began to slow.
  "Keep pushing! Keep pushing!" screamed the Duke. But the locomotive felt heavier. "I'll handle this, don't you stop pushing!"
Stepping away, the Duke looked back down the line of carriages and saw that the men pushing the carriage two down from the engine car were glancing behind them as they pushed, the Duke ran up alongside their carriage.
  "Eyes front, soldier!" he snapped. The young men jumped and turned around.
  "Sorry, sir," said one of them, turning back to the job at hand.
  "What was that noise, sir?" another asked through gritted teeth.
  "That's the sound of this train coming to a halt, if you don't keep pushing," said the Duke, sternly. "Now, eyes front and keep moving."
The men complied, but then the Duke stepped back and also looked down the line of tracks behind them. The sound was still distant, and infrequent, but he was certain that it was the train behind them. He ran back towards the locomotive and walked alongside the driver's cabin.
  "Chough!" called out the Duke. The door opened and the tall, greasy-handed engineer looked out.
  "Yes, sir?" he said.
  "How soon before this train can run under its own power?"
  "Not yet, there's still some wraive-guts and feathers clogging the radiator."
  "I don't need her in top condition, I just need it moving."
  "Uh . . ." the engineer shrugged, " . . . half an hour?"
  "You need to work faster," said the Duke, frowning.
  "Yes, sir," said Chough, as he closed the door and went back to work.
The Duke clenched his teeth and marched down the line.
  "Am I mistaken, or are we slowing down?!" screamed the Duke. "I must be, because soldiers would have more calibre! More strength! More fortitude! More determination than this! We're going to pick up the pace, because I know we can! Just take another step, men! Don't think about the pain! Don't think about fear! Don't think about anything except taking another step!"
The train was moving slightyly faster, but not very, and that sound was getting louder. The Duke looked behind them and he couldn't see anything on the tracks. However, he could see the smoke. The cliff face beside the tracks curved slightly to the left, and above that he could see thick, black, toxic-looking smoke, and it was much closer than he felt comfortable with.
  "Come on men!" screamed the Duke as he jogged, doing what he could to hide his own apprehension. "We're almost there! Just keep moving!"
The Duke ran to the head of the train again, but this time kept running. Past the train, he ran towards the split in the tracks, now almost ten metres away. from the train. It was a long way, but the Duke had hope for the soldiers yet. So he stood by the railroad switch on the lefthand side. It was a lever in a simple box, and from the box extended a long rod which connected under the rail to the point blades that switched the track. The Duke stood behind the lever, facing the train, clamped the handle and threw the switch with a clack.
  "You're nearly here!" he yelled, "Come on!"
The locomotive rolled slowly through the switch, grunting and creaking around the bend. As it did, the Duke saw it; behind their train, in the distance, the black smoke was rising into the air.
  "You're doing it! Don't stop now! We've got to get off the main line!" yelled the Duke as the first carriage, a gun car, rolled around the bend. That's when he heard it, in the distance, the rhythmic chugging of a diesel engine, but this was deeper and heavier than their own train.
The second carriage, for soldiers, rolled past the bend. The sound was getting louder.
  "Just concentrate on taking each step!" the Duke yelled at the soldiers pushing the third carriage, a tall auto-rack car. The air was suddenly filled with noise, like a heavy, empty honk as the train behind them blew its horn; it sounded just like a foghorn. The men looked scared, "You're halfway done! Don't worry, just keep pushing!"
The fourth car was another soldier car, and it slowly rolled around the corner. As it did, the ground at the Duke's feet started vibrating. small grains of dirt started sifting and quivering, and a stream of dust fell loose from the cliff-face, and fell like a waterfall. The Duke was beginning to worry. If they didn't get off the line in time, he doubted they'd have the time to escape somewhere safe from the collision.
The fifth car, the train's other gun car, rolled around the bend. The train behind was getting louder and louder, they could all hear it now, and could even hear the rumble of the tracks as it drove, and the rails beside the Duke began humming, singing with the vibration of a powerful train barrelling down the tracks. They blew their horn again, this time considerably louder.
  "Don't lose your heads! Don't slow down! You are going to make it to the end, because you are my army of soldiers!" yelled the Duke.
The sixth car, the final passenger carriage, rolled around the bend, and that's when the Duke saw it. Behind their train, he could see the oncoming train. It was a lot taller than their train. The engine itself was almost four-storeys tall, with its front end shaped like a sharply-angled corner, painted red and slicing through the air as it approached, very fast. The ground beneath his feet was shaking, the tracks singing with the ring of metal, the train behind thundering through.
The last car was pushed around the bend. It was the Duke's timeship, the Lift in the shape of a caboose, with the men beside it groaning and straining to keep pushing.
  "You've nearly made it, men! Don't keep-" the Duke's voice was drowned out by the sound of the foghorn. The caboose finally left the main line, the men pushed it out of the way, but the train was approaching fast. The Duke threw the switch the other way. Less than five seconds later, the great, red train behind them sliced past, missing the soldiers' train by a few metres and sending the Duke's leather coat flailing in the resulting wind, as he was separated from the soldier's train. The Duke stepped back from the tracks and looked up at the massive train and he was shocked. Each carriage was at least three storeys tall, with sleek angles, dark, silver plating and several strips of thick windows, through which the Duke could see glances of some of the passengers as it whipped by, some of them walking around, talking or looking out at him. After a few moments of the train thundering past, squealing and rumbling down the tracks, the Duke lost count of the number of carriages, but it was over thirty; then the tail end of it sped past, another red engine, facing backwards, pushing the great line along from behind. Then the soldier's diesel train and the other fork of the track came into view. The soldiers were all collapsed to their knees, kneeling down or sitting on the dirt.
  "Good work, men," said the Duke, before finding his voice again. "Good work! You've made me proud!"
  "Yes, sir!" said the men, sounding a little haggard, and only about half of them saluted, the rest were so tired. But the Duke then turned and walked towards the engine car. He needed some answers.

The locomotive roared as it flared to life, groaning and growling, and began puffing smoke cheerily. Then the driver blew the train whistle and leaned out the side door.
  "All aboard!" he called, and the soldiers slowly picked themselves up and climbed into their cabins. Anise and Edison had also collapsed to catch their breath beside the locomotive, but now picked themselves up and dusted themselves off.
  "Hey, where's Duke?" Anise asked, turning to the driver.
  "Don't know. He stormed off in a huff, he must be onboard, somewhere."
He closed the door, so Anise headed for the nearest passenger car.
  "Wait up for me," said Edison, stretching his muscles and groaning.
  "I have to find Duke!" she called back, and she climbed aboard. Inside the carriage, she had to squeeze past the soldiers that were making their way to their seats. "Is Duke here? Duke?"
  "Here's not here, Miss, he went straight on through" said one of the soldiers. Anise nodded and headed to the end, slipping through to the next carriage. This was the auto-rack, a carriage filled with army cars and trucks, that were stacked vertical, pointed down. Anise had to kneel down slightly to walk through the small space in between, where the vehicles faced bonnet to bonnet, and she had to carefully step over the hydraulics which lowered the side doors down. As she slipped between the cars, she heard the engine whistle squeal again, and then they began moving, the engine slowly chugging. She held onto one of the pistons as the carriage rattled into motion, then crept her way to the rear end of the carriage. They were picking up the pace as she stepped through to the next carriage.
  "Duke!" she called out. All the soldiers were sitting in their seats, so she could see clearly down to the end, and the Duke wasn't there. She marched to the end again.
By the time she passed through the gun carriage and into the last passenger car, the train was starting to pick up the pace. She looked around the soldiers and didn't see the Duke, so she knew he had to be aboard the Lift, in its caboose-form. Anise opened the door. She did and found herself face to face with the Duke.
  "Duke! I've been looking all over for you," said Anise.
  "Oh . . ." said the Duke.
  "What are you doing?" she asked.
  "I've got some business to take care of," said the Duke. He knelt down to the gap between the carriages. There were two large buffers, and the caboose was clasped with a knuckle coupling. The Duke unclasped the safety latches on the knuckle. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay here, just for a short moment. I promise, I'll come back."
  "Come back? from where?" asked Anise, then she realized what he was doing. The Duke stood and kicked a lever and the two knuckles released.
  "Duke! What are you doing?!" Anise screamed. She tried to step onto the train, but the Duke put a hand to her shoulder, holding her back and stood blocking her way. "Let me come with you."
  "No, Anise. This is too dangerous."
  "Then don't go!" screamed Anise, as the gap between them grew wider.
  "I have to . . ." said the Duke. "I need answers."
Anise shook her head, tears welling in the corner of her eyes.
  "Oh no you don't!" she screamed. Anise turned and walked quickly away from the carriage door. As she reached the other end of the carriage, she took off her pink, sheepskin boots and handed them to a soldier.
  "Hold these!" she said, "and don't lose them!"
Then she turned around, sighed heavily, and sprinted. He feet thudded against the metal, grille floor as she ran and as she came to the gap, she leapt. By that time, the gap was more than two metres wide, but she went speeding out the door.
  "Anise!" screamed the Duke, as she came flying towards him. The Duke caught her in his arms, and they both fell back through the caboose door, onto the Persian runner on the floor inside the carriage. "Anise, what the hell is wrong with you?!"
Anise sat up, straddling his chest.
  "You're not going anywhere without me! I am sick of you boys treating me like an invalid!"
  "You just jumped from a moving train!" yelled the Duke.
  "Because you were trying to leave me behind!" screamed Anise, even angrier. "I'm not a child! I'm a part of this, the same as you, and I won't have you running off on some suicide mission on your own!"
The two glared at one another for a moment as the caboose started to lose momentum.
  "Get off me . . ." growled the Duke. Anise waited a few belligerent seconds before complying. "I can't believe you did that."
  "I can't believe you," said Anise, "I didn't want to come with you across the universe so I could stand on the sidelines while you try to kill yourself."
  "I was going to come back," said the Duke, "I just don't want you to get hurt."
  "That's what I'm talking about!"
  "But this is dangerous," said the Duke, "you could die."
  "All the more reason you shouldn't go alone!"
  "Anise, you don't understand, I'm not human. It matters if you die, but it doesn't matter if I die."
  "It matters to me," she said. The Duke just sighed.
  "Anise, I'm sorry . . . I just-"
Anise silenced him by grabbing him in a hug. He hugged her back.
  "Just don't leave without me," she whispered.
  "I won't," he said, in that quiet, rumbling, almost-purring whisper, that spoke only to her.
  "Then, apology accepted." They embraced for a while, as the caboose finally rolled to a stop, then the Duke let go.
  "Alright, now we wait," said the Duke.
  "Wait for what?" asked Anise.
  "For the wraive," said the Duke. The Duke turned and walked out of the caboose, then jumped off to stand on the tracks.
  "I thought the wraive were the enemy. Won't they kill you?" asked Anise, as the Duke helped her to step down.
  "They're the enemy of the Lugosians, but we're not on anyone's side, Anise, we're just helping those in need," said the Duke, walking around beside the caboose and staring down the line behind them. "When the wraive attacked the train I could hear them, they sounded terrified."
  "They didn't sound very terrified to me," said Anise.
  "I meant in my mind," said the Duke, tapping the side of his temple with a finger, "I thought they were just birds, but they communicate with some form of telepathy and I could hear it and see flashes of images. They were attacking us because they're scared of us. But if I can show them that there's nothing to fear, then maybe we could talk with them."
  "Why would you want to?" asked Anise.
  "Because something isn't right here. The Lugosians want to go to war with them wraive, yet the wraive are behind them and they're running away; when the wraive flew off, after the attack, they also flew in that direction; the civilian train was headed down the same track, despite the fact that they're heading towards that same danger & when I used the radio in the cabin to ask them to stop they refused, even if it meant running through our train."
  "I don't get it," said Anise. "What does that all mean?"
  "As best I can devise from what I've seen, they're all running away from something," said the Duke, pointing down the line. "Something behind us, that's scaring wraive, soldier, and Lugosian citizen alike."
  "Somethin' like what?"
  "I don't know and I don't think all of them know either, but I'm going to ask the wraive."
  "How do you know they’ll listen?" asked Anise.
  "I don’t,” said the Duke, solemnly. "That’s why this is dangerous."
  “Right," said Anise, nodding, " . . . perhaps I should wear my cocktail dress, then?"
  “What?” asked the Duke, frowning.
  “You know? A tight little red dress?” said Anise, with a cheeky smile. “Might get the wraive to warm up to us; 'n' If not, at least I’ll die lookin’ stunning.”
  “I don’t think you understand how serious this is,” said the Duke.
  “You’re right . . . a bikini makes more sense.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t stop himself from smirking.

A black swarm began to develop on the horizon. It didn't take long, perhaps only five minutes of waiting, before they saw them, peeking in from the distance like pinpricks piercing through the yellow sky or  slipping through the clouds. But as the specks of black started to darken the sky, and the few became many, they started to hear the sound. All of the birds were cawing as they flew, but there were so many that their chattering sounded like a rumble, punctuated by the heavy whooping of a million, flapping wings. Slowly, they came into view, and the dissolute masses cohered into a cloud of crowing black, flowing together like a floating wave that churned and swooped around itself with incredible weight and strength.
  "Come on," said the Duke. He headed for the end of the caboose, where the ladder was attached to the iron railing. The Duke climbed up swiftly, onto the roof of the carriage. Anise followed after. On the roof, there was only one railing, and the windowed projection in the middle of the roof meant they had to stand on a very short platform, with little room to move. But Anise stood firm beside the Duke, as they watched the birds fly closer. The wraive grew larger and seemed to fly faster, as they moved closer and closer. Underneath their masses, a great shadow crossed the land, as though they were consuming the very earth itself.
  "There's billions of them . . ." said Anise, sounding very small.
  "Then they'll have less to fear from us," said the Duke. "I hope that means they'll be willing to listen.
As they came towards the disguised timeship, the forward line of the giant flock dipped low, aiming down towards them. The Duke raised both of his arms.
  "Do not be afraid!" yelled the Duke. "We wish to talk!"
As the birds came closer, and they could see the light glinting off their eyes and the sleek outline of their wings, they birds swooped around the right side of the carriage, in a wall of feathers and wind, circling the carriage entirely until they enclosed Duke, Anise and the timeship in a fast-whirling, counter-clockwise tornado of wraive.
  "What's going on?!" Anise screamed, over the squawking and flapping of wings.
  "They're seeing if we're dangerous!" yelled the Duke.
After a few intense moments of scrutiny, the whirling wall of wings began to slow, and some of the wraive flew towards them. One of Two of them landed on the railing beside Anise, making her jump, and another landed on the raised portion of the caboose's roof. Each bird was enormous, easily a metre long from beak to tail with a wingspan of up to four metres. They looked like giant crows, and they seemed to flit nervously as they settled.
  "Why are you attacking the Lugosians?" asked the Duke.
The three birds all cawed in unison, and the Duke closed his eyes.
  "What's going on?" asked Anise. The Duke didn't speak, instead he touched Anise's shoulder and placed his head next to hers, having to lean down to her height. Her mind's eye was suddenly flooded with flashes of images:
An explosion of rushing water becoming a still pool; screaming soldiers firing bursts of yellow light; A million black feathers falling through a blue sky; blood, spilling from a wraive's punctured eye; a pink flower rapidly withering down to nothing; A million birds taking fleeing from a forest and into the sky . . .
  "What the hell?!" squealed Anise, jumping back.
  "Hush . . ." said the Duke, quietly, he was concentrating. "That is how they communicate."

  "Oh," muttered Anise. The Duke opened his eyes.
  "Would you like to see more?" he asked. Anise hesitated a moment.
  " . . . yes," and he leant down to touch foreheads once again.
At first all she could see were images from the wraives' eyes, flashes of the Duke and herself standing atop the caboose. But then the Duke spoke. As he did, the words echoed in his mind:
  "What are you running from?" asked the Duke.
A huge city of iron, being evacuated by dozens of trains; A flood of wraive, flying from a single point and spreading into the sky like a storm; An explosion in the middle of the city, creating a ball of fire that expands to engulf the city; burning feathers, falling through yellow sky; a wraive evaporating into smoke; a world being engulfed by fire-
The Duke stood up, opened his eyes and looked up at the spiralling wraive.
  "No . . ." he stammered. "No, they can't!"
The wraive seemed to stir as he yelled.
  "Explosion?" muttered Anise. "They blew up the city?"
  "Not just the city," said the Duke. "They're blowing up the planet."
  "What."
  "It's the end of the world, Anise. They're destroying everything!" said the Duke. He held onto her shoulders and held her as they turned, so he could pass her on the narrow platform. "We need to move."
  "Why are they blowing up the planet?" asked Anise.
  "To kill the wraive," said the Duke, climbing down the ladder. Anise followed behind as he continued talking. "They went to the wraive homeworld and shot at the wildlife, not understanding how intelligent they were. As a result, the wraive defended themselves. That's when the Lugosians declared war."
said the Duke, as he opened the secret panel by the console room doors. "Then the wraive started winning, so now they're setting off this . . . endgame."
The Duke unlocks, opens and enters the console room.
  "But Duke?" said Anise, as she stepped into the console room. "If they set off an explosion, why aren't we dead?"

  "It's a planet, Anise," said the Duke, "it will take some time to engulf it entirely. Perhaps a whole day."
  "This is insane," said Anise.
  "That's why we're leaving," said the Duke, flipping and switching the controls. "Right after we collect the Inspector . . ."

The Inspector was standing at the rear of the train, looking through the open door with a look of awe on his face.
  "They left without me . . ." muttered Edison, looking completely shocked. He stared out into the yellow sky, and could see the beginnings of black specks, as the billions of wraive were flying towards him. Edison sighed, "Dad was right . . ."
In the distance, something caught his eye. it wasn't one of the growing number of wraive. It was closer to the ground, moving much faster, and was vaguely square or rectangular in shape. As it flew, rocking and weaving just a few feet above the railroad tracks, the dirt below was billowing up into the air, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. It was the Duke's caboose, the disguised Lift, flying towards him, and Anise was standing on the front end, holding on tight. It slowed down as it came within range of the train. It was quite unsteady, rocking, leaning and tilting as it went, but then it started to shift and turn to align itself with the tracks. Quite lightly, it lowered down, and sparks flew as the still wheels hit the tracks and began spinning. Then the caboose pushed forward until the knuckles locked with a clunk!
  "Alright, you got it!" screamed Anise, then she bent down and attached the safety chains.
  "Where the hell were you?!" asked Edison
  "The wraive," whispered Anise, "we were talking to them."
  "Right," said Edison. "That sounds . . . insane. I thought you left without me."
  "We wouldn't do that to you, Chess" said Anise, smiling.
  "Chess?" said the Duke, raising an eyebrow.
  "Yeah," said Anise, "his name's Chester, but that's kinda weird - no offence -"
  "None taken," said Edison with a shrug.
  "- so, I call him Chess."
  "Right . . . well, come aboard, Inspector, we have to go," said the Duke. Edison boarded the caboose.
  "You're leaving, sir?" said one of the voices aboard the trooper's carriage. The Duke stepped up to the door to look inside. Many of the soldiers looked tired and crestfallen.
  "Yes," said the Duke. But this time, he didn't raise his voice or stand tall, now he was speaking softly to the soldiers. "You've done well, and you've almost arrived at the launchsite. There are rockets on the horizon, gentlemen, awaiting you . . ."
  "Aren't you coming, sir?" asked one of the soldiers, looking most confused.
  "No. I have other matters to attend to," said the Duke, stepping into the carriage. "And although recent events have caused me to question the wisdom of this conflict; I will never regret meeting such fine young men as yourselves . . ."
The Duke placed a hand to his chest, and nodded. All of the soldiers in the carriage returned the salute. Then the Duke left the carriage, closing the door behind him and headed into the console room.
  "Where are we going now?" asked Edison.
  "We'll be on our way, soon," said the Duke. "But first, I have something I need to do."

After travelling through the vortex, the ship rematerialized inside a small room, with beige, stone tiles and sandstone walls. There were several tall, doorways leading out of the room, and the forward wall was a series of closely-spaced archways leading out to a wide terrace  The ceiling was over five storeys high, and it was covered entirely with a skylight of slanted glass, that revealed a pale, blue sky, with wisps of grey cloud.
As the ship became whole, it was in the form of a cylindrical, glass elevator, with metal bands around the top and base, both laced with delicately detailed etchings into the metal. It had some detached machinery on the roof, and the floor was stone tile identical to the room.
The Duke exited the console room door and pressed a button which opened the outer doors with a ding.
  "Come outside," said the Duke. Anise and Edison stepped out of the hidden depths of the timeship and  into the sandstone room, as the Duke remained in the Lift lobby, fiddling with the controls. The doors closed and the inside lift 'moved' until a mechanical voice said 'Cargo Hold' and the doors open.
  "Come out! It's safe here!" yelled the Duke, then he ran to join the other two. "Make sure you're out of the way."
Suddenly, with the sound of flapping wings and whooshing air, thousands and thousands of large, black birds, come flying out of the doors of the timeship, swooping through the archways, out the terrace and into the pale, blue sky.
  "You took the wraive with you?" said Edison, sounding incredulous.
  "I couldn't leave them there to die," said the Duke, "it would have been genocide."
  "I thought they were the enemy,"
  "As did the Lugosians. That was their first mistake."
  "How many did you bring?" asked Edison.
  "As many as I could accommodate," said the Duke. They watched as the stream of wraive continued to fly out.
  "What is this place?" asked Anise, looking around.
  "If you must know," said the Duke, quietly, "this, is the Glass Palace."
  "But where are we?" Edison asked. "What planet?
  " . . . Rathea," replied the Duke. It took a moment before Anise could react.
  "Wait, the Rathea? As in I'm the Duke of . . ."
  "Indeed," said the Duke, emotionlessly, "I couldn't release the wraive just anywhere, it had to be somewhere I could guarantee they'd be safe."
  "This is your home planet?" said Anise, sounding excited.
  "Obviously," said the Duke. After a few seconds, the last of the wraive flew out of the timeship's doors and the sound of wingbeats suddenly stopped. The Duke then walked back into the Lift lobby and pushes a button on the hidden panel. The door closes and the elevator 'moves' again.
  "What are you doing?" asked Anise.
  "We're leaving," said the Duke.
  "But we're here, I want to see Rathea."
  "No," said the Duke gravely, "we're leaving."
  "Why?" asked Edison. "What difference does it make being here or anywhere else? Do you have a schedule to keep?! Why would you leave your own planet?"
  "Because I said we're leaving!" yelled the Duke, his voice echoing through the tall room. 'Console room' says a mechanical voice, as the doors to the ship open, that's when the Duke turned and entered the console room; Anise started to follow, but Edison turned towards the terrace.
  "Edison?" called out the Duke. When he saw him heading towards the terrace he ran after him. "Wait! Edison, please!"
With one hand on his gun, Edison walked out of the room, and stood on a terrace. Left and right, there were similar terraces and behind him he'd come out of an enormous palace of sandstone and glass. But he walked to the hewn stone banister, and looked out onto the city below, and gasped.
  "Oh my god . . ." muttered Edison.
Below, was a mess of broken stone, and spilled sand. It was a city, but every single building was a cracked, empty husk; the ancient ruin of a desert metropolis, died centuries ago. There were mountains alongside the city wall and to the horizon stretched a sea of sand dunes and jagged rock. After a few moments, Edison turned around, to see the Duke standing in the middle of the terrace.
  "What happened here?" asked Edison.
  "Time happened here," said the Duke as he walked over to join him. "I'm an alien, Inspector; I live much longer than anyone else. I even outlived my own civilization. These people all died, ages ago."
  "But you're the Duke. How can you be a duke without any people?"
  "That is why I left my planet, Inspector," said the Duke. "A duke is a leader, a guide; he helps those in need; finds solutions to the problems of the people; provides strength when it is expected of him . . . and provides hope to those that need it the most. I travel because I am a duke."
  "What's going on?" asked Anise. The Duke turned to see her at the archways.
  "We were just leaving," said the Duke, walking over to her. "Are you coming, Inspector? Or will I leave you behind?"
After glancing at the ruins of Rathea one last time, Edison followed the Duke into the console room of the timeship. Then the ship slowly vanished, like sand in the wind.

Gender-al Ignorance

Very recently, as I hear it, Facebook changed one of its features. Nothing huge and it wasn't across the board either, but apparently, for these people with "Engish (US)" as their language, Facebook has changed the options for selecting your gender. These people can now identify themselves as Trans Man or Trans Woman; but that's not all, they can also identify as Agender, Androgyne, Bigender, Cisgender, Genderqueer, Intersex, Pangender, Transfeminine, Transmasculine, Trans Person, Transsexual, Two-Spirit & many More.

Now, I want to make my position clear here. I identify as an ally to LGBTI issues, and I most definitely still consider myself as such. But I'm also an absurd word nerd, and I feel like some of this gender stuff is getting out of hand; because, a lot of people - even those who are transgendered - are ignorant of the language used to describe them, and what it means when they refer to themselves in this way.
I'm not saying that I have a problem calling a transgendered person by their identity. In fact, according to multiple levels of research, if a transgendered person is born male and has gender dysphoria, then she thinks like a woman. It's upsetting enough to be trapped in the wrong body, never mind what other people think, so I totally support this stance and I even believe that some of these people can be quite beautiful.

But there are some misunderstandings that I hope to clear up here and a lot of this has to do with a recent phenomenon that I totally disapprove of. lately, there has been this new movement to eliminate the so-called "Gender Binary". that is, they believe there are more than two genders, and that we all need to re-evaluate our understanding of gender to fix this perceived imbalance.
That's all fine. But I have a semantic issue with this, and that is, there are two genders, as far as I can see. So, as far as I'm concerned, the idea of eliminating the ideal of "two genders" is really, fucking stupid. The Word of the Day is: 'CISGENDER'.

Cisgender /sisjendə/ adj. Identifying with or experiencing a gender the same as one's biological sex or that is affirmed by society; being both male-gendered and male-sexed.

Now, I am not a proponent of Gender Binarism, because I do believe that transgendered people deserve recognition, as do intersexed people. These are states of mind and body, defined by science and they are unquestionable. If you force transgendered people to act cisgendered, they react the same way as non-trans people do when you force them to act like an incongruent gender, as proven with Chloe Sevigny crying when she had to wear a prosthetic phallus for Boy's Don't Cry, or even Dustin Hoffman in his role as Tootsie being upset by how people treated him as a woman, it's distressing being told that you're something when you're not. This is fundamental, it doesn't matter how you feel about it, because this isn't a choice, it's a fact; and the fact is, when you misname or mistreat transgendered people, you cause more harm than good. So to people like Todd Kincannon who calls transgendered people "disgusting freaks", I think you deserve to die in a fire. I hate this kind of bullying, transsexuals are people too, I'm not saying otherwise.
What I am instead saying is that, if we broaden our minds, you can realize that two genders, "man" and "woman", can cover all of our bases.

My issue is that I believe we're defining a lot of this wrong. There was a big, dramatic to-do a while ago with Mike Khraulik of Penny Arcade, talking about his opinion of transgenderism. Basically, if you were born as a male, but identified as a woman, he considered you a man. Now, reading his words I have to say, I appreciate his attitude (he's not transphobic) but he's very wrong in his use of language and this event informed my own opinion of the whole issue of language, based on the meaning of the words involved.
See, according to the dictionary a male has a penis & a female has a vagina. It's pretty clear-cut there . . . this is the definition of sex, it is defined by genitals. However, according to the dictionary, the definition of man is more loosely defined as someone with male or masculine qualities, and a woman is someone with female or feminine qualities; this is what defines gender, it is more open to interpretation, as it doesn't involve body parts so much as values, attitudes & all of that. Now, the way I define cis-/trans-gender is:
If you are cisgendered, then you are either a man that is a male, or a woman that is female. If you are transgendered, then you are either a man that was born female, or a woman that was born male.

Using this mindset, if you are a transgendered woman, when you sign into Facebook, you would select "Woman" as your gender. And I believe that is preferable to "transwoman", "MtF" or "trans male". The issue that I have with this new Facebook thing and its 50 gender options is that, to me, it implies that transgendered women aren't as 'valid' as cisgendered women.
  "You're transgendered? Well, then you're not a woman, you're a trans-woman. We don't want you thinking you're a real one," it seems to say. As far as I'm concerned, you deserve the same rights as a woman, which includes being labelled "woman", without an addendum or an asterisk.
Now, I appreciate that some people like to advertise the particularities of their gender identity, but I don't think it's relevant, because being transgender, to me, isn't relevant to your gender. It may be relevant to your sexual identity or your self-expression, but if someone asks for my gender, I wouldn't say: "I'm a straight male" or "I'm a smart male" any more than I would say "I'm a cisgendered male", because that's not what I'm being asked. What we should be asking is for a "Sex" option, as well as gender, rather than this 50 options for Gender nonsense.

That said, I agree with the concept of seeing gender as more than: What is your Gender? Pick Either M or F;
With Man represented as "♂, blue, hard, patriarch, hunter, strength, dominant & sword"
& Woman represented as "♀, pink, soft, matron, gatherer, beauty,  submissive & chalice"
I don't disregard these notions completely, but I do believe that our understanding of masculinity & femininity are evolving. At one point we had the tomboy and nancygirl, now we have a more diverse understanding of gender that includes the idea of once masculine traits becoming more feminine. Leadership, dominance and aggression these days can be seen as feminine traits; whereas kindness, beauty & even the colour pink can just as easily be seen as masculine.
Speaking of pink (and gender) Robert "MovieBob" Chipman once did a video in his The Big Picture series called "Pink is not the Problem", about Gender Binary. I mention this because I agree with the notion, but this video offhandedly refutes the Gender Binary, because "these constructs are outdated".

But see, I believe that to be the reason why gender binary is still relevant, to me. Because our understanding of gender is expanding to include these concepts. To remove that identification of gender identity is to throw out the baby with the bathwater. We shouldn't be getting rid of these foundations, rather we should be doing is re-introducing ourselves to what "Man" and "Woman" mean, because they've changed a lot in the last decade.
So, I don't really understand the need for terms like "genderfluid", "bigender", "genderqueer" and "agender", because well . . . gender is evolving to include everyone - even those of us that have all or none of these originally defined "masculine" and "feminine" traits.
I know that right now, in this transition phase, it feels like we're taking a while to get there. But this will take time, and steps, so we can't rush it. But even in this decade, I know that a man can still be a man in a dress; I know that a woman born male that plays sports can still be a woman & I know that a man with a vagina can still be a man.

So, as far as I'm concerned, if you can't be happy being called a woman or a man because you think they don't represent you, then you're not Gender Fluid, Gender Nonconforming or Gender Questioning; you're just Gender Ignorant. I know there are some genuine intersexed people that might find that a bit harsh. If you have a problem with that, then remember - I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just telling you what I think.
And what I think is, no matter how much you may believe we need more than these two genders, at the end of the day we all have to pick a pronoun.

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd and until next time, ladies and gentlemen, I'm gonna be manning up for my next writing assignment by researching lipstick and bullets.

A Bit Better with a Beta

Writing seems like such a lonely practice, doesn't it? You sit alone in a room and type away on your computer, with nought but the bright monitor before you to keep you company. Personally, I don't mind this. It's good to get away and put your thoughts on paper, to construct your own ideas into transmissible words, it's a wondrous gift for both writer and reader. Yet some people don't like it. Especially if you spend too long writing and not enough time out and about, or if you're working on a particularly nasty story and you don't want to risk spoiling it, it might seem like the loneliest thing in the world.

But writing doesn't have to be lonely. In fact, I find that your writing will get better if you get someone else to help. They can help you along the way, although they don't have to, but mostly they're there as a safety net and a guiding influence if you're having trouble writing.
I'm actually one myself for my Beloved, and she is one for me, but these people don't have to be someone so close to you. They could just be a good friend, someone that reads through your writing and helps to find those little mistakes that you missed due to familiarity.
These wonderful, magical people are known in writing circles as "beta readers", The Word of the Day is: 'BETA READER'

Beta reader /baytə reedə/ n. A person who reads a work of fiction with a critical eye, with the aim of improving grammar, spelling, characterization, and general style of a story prior to its release to the general public. Also, betareader; beta.

If you write without a beta reader, that is perfectly fine. I did so for the first twelve years of my writing experience, and it works out very well. Especially if you are trying to find out who you are, it's a good idea to work on your own. However, if you are taking that next step and are a bit worried about striving ahead on your own, you should look into finding a beta reader.
In my experience, the best kind of beta reader is a writer, and a good friend. For two reasons, firstly, because writers understand what it's like to write, they have a better understanding of what you're trying to do, and as a friend they will be honest; Secondly, because if they're a writer then you could become their beta reader as well, making for a fair partnership.

However, today, I am not telling you how or why to get a beta reader. I mean, yes, I sort of already did, but that's not the point of today's blog post. No, today, I am going to tell you how to be a beta reader!
When I began beta reading for my Beloved, I took over for her other beta reader (they had an argument) and so I saw what he said about her reading from the notes he left on her drafts. I have to say, they were really crap. He didn't know what he was doing, and with the feedback I get from other people that have critiqued my work, I have an understanding of bad critics and beta readers.
That's right! Today, I am critiquing the critics, because everyone can have an opinion or find faults, and I'm going to tell you how to do it well, with a few tips. Here we go.

Don't Rewrite Their Words
Everyone has a different way of writing. Everyone has their own style and voice, and so if two writers were told to write the same thing, they would write it different. Even if they were told to emulate another author's style, they would still write differently, because everyone has a life, personality and history that feeds into how and what they write.
Famous writer E.B White once said - "Writing is Rewriting", and I find that it's very true, if you're a writer you will probably have proofread your own work. As a result, if you're a writer and a beta reader, when you proofread someone else's work there's a tendency to treat it like your own. Now, when you do this, their work will sound "wrong" and you'll feel this urge to write something they've written "better". This is because, when you proofread your own work, you often edit it to make it suit your own voice. But since your writing voice is different from theirs, to edit this down will mean editing out the original writer entirely. For instance, I often write around action and motions. "Someone did this, this and this, feeling like this while they did this". But my Beloved, often writes based more around poetry and emotion, something like: "Someone was feeling, like an element of the mysterious something". I think it's beautiful. But if I were to edit it down, all of that poetry, imagery and emotion would be lost, replaced with action.
So, as you beta read, don't look to write stuff for them unless there's simple grammatical error (and even then, make sure your writer knows, so that they can put their spin on it). This is like babysitting, you don't take over and start breastfeeding, you're just there to make sure the story is behaving itself. If you think something feels off, read it a few times to make sure it's not just editing it into your own voice, then if not adjust where necessary. I find that the best way to do this is to find out what your writer's voice is like. That way, you can reinforce their writing to sound more like them, and assist their blossoming talent and abilities, rather than forcing them to write like you.

Balance Critiquing and Reading
I have a lot of fun reading stories, and if your writer is a very good one (or just having a good day), then it's easy to get lost in their story. This is a good thing, don't think it's not. However, the purpose of beta reading is for the writer to test the waters of their audience. If you're not giving enough feedback, then you're not doing as well as you can, as a beta reader.
I have a rule, which you should follow: If you feel a strong emotion, comment.
You are a measuring stick, a test sample, of how an audience will react. So if your writer is doing a good job, they should be told, so they know their strengths and what they're doing right.
But also, when commenting, there's this habit to go overboard. I use Google Drive to critique, whereby you can leave comments/notations in the margins of the page. And if I'm having a lot of fun, sometimes I have this urge to comment after every sentence; this is just overdoing it. More worrisome is that, if I'm particularly flustered by something, I sometimes start ranting in the comment section out of frustration.
Keep all of this to a minimum. If you're annoyed, then that's worth mentioning, but don't spend a long time whining if a simple: "This is a plothole, I suggest you do this." will suffice. If you love it a simple: "great dialogue" or "I love this imagery" is all you need. As for negative comments, I find swearing helps to get your aggrevation across succinctly. For positive comments, it's a good idea to talk to the writer later, so if you want to gush about the parts you liked then that is the time to do it.
For this reason, I prefer to ask a question instead of make a statement in my comments, since that often helps the writer to think of the answer. It does depend on how you critique, but when I ask questions I often get unexpected answers, so it's a good way of sparking the imagination.

Be Cruel to be Kind
Why not start with another author quote, hey? Arthur Quiller-Couch famously said, in a lecture about writing: "Murder your Darlings". He was talking about your own writing, because you sometimes have to be brutal. Well, with other people's writing, you shouldn't be cruel, but you will have to be brutally honest. You might think you're being sweet going:
  "Oh, see, this dialogue. I'm not quite sure if it's as good as you're capable of."
But if you what you really want to say is:
  "I don't like any of this, it adds nothing to the story."
Just say so. Don't be mean, don't insult the writer because you don't like a piece of their work (that is what lead to the arguments between my Beloved and her last beta reader), but don't be afraid of expressing your opinion, unless you think you're in the minority, and even then, you should still share your criticisms, so long as you are fully honest. The fact of the matter is, you're not going to love every story. But if you're honest with your writer, then they will be honest with you, and you can work together to make better stories. Although, I must add one HUGE Addendum to this:
+ If you think the story needs a total rewrite, be gentle. Having to write a whole story again is rough after spending so much time and effort the first time, and even worse if your told by someone else that your work isn't good enough. So, if you honestly believe that a work needs a complete overhaul, be apologetic, nice, careful and honest about it. If possible, it's a good idea to offer help as well, since you're asking a lot of someone to start again from scratch.

Think About the Big Picture
When your working with someone else, in a small space, on a single story to fix the little pieces, it can seem like a fun little club. You and them, side by side, or working in the one document can be quite intimate. But you need to remember what you're working towards, and that is writing for the public. It might not be, if not, work towards that, but most writers are writing for some kind of audience.
So, for one thing, you need to remember that other people are going to read your Writer's work, so it needs to be clear. Especially if you're good friends with your writer and like to talk shop all the time, there might be back and forth trade secrets that you both know, so you may then forget to say it in the story. A few times, I've asked my writer a question, only for her to tell me the answer, and I will have to remind her: "You haven't told the reader that."
As well as that, you need to remember that this isn't all about you, just because you're the beta reader. As a major example, there is a story that my Beloved wrote which I do not like. It really bugs me and I don't understand the point of it, let alone the way the magic works or why . . . it bothers me. However, when she sent it into a magazine, it was accepted immediately. When she showed it to her friend, she also said it was amazing, just like a fairytale.
So, don't go losing sight of the fact that, as much as you may try not to be, you will be biased. Sometimes your criticisms are just opinions and you don't have all the answers, sometimes you won't like something because it's a genre you dislike, or it talks about something you disagree with. So, if you do dislike something, it's a good idea to find out why. That way, you will have a better understanding of whether or not your criticism has merit. If done properly, you can find yourself critiquing a story you don't like, and yet still manage to make it better for the audience that does.


In conclusion, beta reading can be a lot of fun and having a beta reader can work wonders on your fiction and writing endeavours. I honestly believe that writers have to be a little crazy to be writers, locking themselves away from society to live in a fantasy world. But a problem shared is a problem halved, and misery loves company. So if you can find someone else to share your madness with, you might just find not only a better story, but also a friend for life. And don't think this is some kind of amateurish trick to get into the big leagues, because it's not. Some of the most famous writers in the world had friends they worked with that wrote together and helped to make writing easier.
Writers like J.R.R. Tolkien; C.S. Lewis & Roger Lancelyn Green were all members of the Inklings literary discussion group. Agatha Christie; Dorothy L. Sayers; G.K. Chesterton & many more mystery writers formed The Detection Club [they even wrote a book together, I wrote a post that mentions it]. Even famous, modern writers like of Neil Gaiman; Diana Wynne Jones & George R. R. Martin have also taken part in the Milford SF Writer's Conference to critique and read the works over others. The list goes on. Just because you don't like working alone doesn't mean you're an amateur . . . because you don't have to be alone.

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, and until next time, I'm off to have some fun with my mates this weekend. Because sometimes, the best thing to do when you're having trouble writing, is to have some fun and be social . . .

Crossing Over to Another World

A while ago, on Facebook, there was a funny comic that was shared by George Takei. It was a parody of the film Titanic, with penguins, I've even found the original, if you want to read it yourself. In the comments on this page, someone said "Still a better Romance than Twilight", which is apparently some kind of meme. Anyway, this comment made me consider, just idly, "I wonder if there's any Twilight/Titanic crossover fanfiction". Admittedly, this wasn't a very clever thought, but it just popped into my head and I was curious, so I looked it up on fanfiction.net . . . I was disappointed. There weren't any good ones.
That's to be expected, I guess, most of the stuff on fanfiction.net is terrible. But this disappointment was caused by two things. First of all, obvious one, there's a brilliant portmanteau - Twitanic, an opportunity there, lost and wasted. Secondly, all of these crossovers, they were terribly executed; a lot of them try to make Bella exist in the Titanic universe, which is just stupid. The Titanic sank almost 100 years before Bella was born. Why do they do that?

See, with Twilight, it is canon that Edward Cullen was alive during the time of Titanic. Admittedly, he would have been 11 years old, but it could still be done, what about Carlisle Cullen? He was born in England, perhaps that's how he planned on getting to America. But most people don't care about the continuity of the book, they're too busy trying to write their own story, and I think that's despicable. I wrote a post about this kind of thing ages ago, if you're playing with someone else's fictional world, then you should keep continuity and make everything canonical, otherwise you're being disrespectful and lazy. It's possible to do a canonical Titanic/Twilight crossover story if you want to and still have it make sense within the worlds of both stories.

Of course, I wouldn't, that story would be terrible. But that got me thinking about crossovers, and I started wondering: What movie universes could  you crossover, without any trouble? In fact, I thought, what if there were some crossovers that could make movies better?
The Word of the Day is: 'CROSSOVER'.

Crossover /'krosōvə/ n. 1. The act of crossing over. 2. A bridge or other structure for crossing over a river, highway, etc. 3. Genetics. a. Also, Crossing over. b. A genotype resulting from crossing over. 4. Popular Music. a. The act of crossing over in style, usually with the intention of broadening the commercial appeal to a wider audience. b. Music that crosses over in style, occasionally sharing attributes with several musical styles and therefore often appealing to a broader audience. b>5. Also, Crossover network.

I'm quite fond of crossovers, never mind some of the crossover stories that I've written for this blog, but the major fiction that I'm writing for this blog, Duke Forever, although it seems as though it is mainly set in the Whoniverse (with hints towards other franchises), it has always been my plan that the "Duke Forever Continuum" would crossover with another major sci-fi series (which has, so far, been kept mostly under wraps with only a hint or two), I plan on revealing that crossover in the coming chapters, so you can look forward to that!

But for now, I've been looking at some interesting ideas for crossovers that don't have many inconsistencies; by that I mean movie crossovers that would make sense within their own set of rules. For instance, you couldn't crossover Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. I mean, you could, but their magic systems are mutually exclusive. Not only are they set in different time periods and places, but in LotR, Wizards are god-like beings (of which there are only about four) that utilize magic implicitly, as they are eternally wise; whereas in the Potterverse magical ability is passed on through genes (there are probably a billion or so wizards) and you use magic words to cast spells. So that's my thought process. For the last week or so I've been looking for cool potential crossovers that not only integrate neatly but also overlap in certain ways to add something new to both universes.

And I have found five of them. That is to say 10 different movie franchises that not only could cross over logically, but also improve their respective movie franchises via their respective crossovers. Now a lot of these explanations assume prerequisite knowledge of the movies in question, so I recommend that you watch the movies before reading their specific entry. If that's unavoidable, then I hope you can keep up, because there's a lot to get through here, and I can't be explaining all of them. But before we get to the five main crossovers for this pot, I have two Honourable Mentions:

#\ Brave, Tangled & How To Train Your Dragon
  (The Berk-Albion Triangle)
When I told Beloved about my idea for a crossover fic, she brought to my attention something that those in Fanfiction circles call "The Big Three", which is a term for fanfiction involving these three movies which were produced by the three main animation studios: Pixar, Disney & DreamWorks, respectively. This is an interesting crossover for a couple of reasons. First of all, not only are all of these movies computer generated, they're also drawn in artistic styles that gel well together. Secondly, all of these are set (more or less) in a realistic world, but with some kind of magical tidbit such as magic, witches or dragons. But thirdly, and most importantly, it is quite likely that all of these movies are set within the same, small worldspace. Brave is set in the Scottish Highlands; Tangled doesn't explain its setting, but the castles, knights and "ye olde pub" imply that it's set in England & Dragon is set on Berk, and while it's not explained where exactly Berk is, vikings are Norse, so it's fair to say they wouldn't be too far from Norway.
Now, if you fetch Google Maps, you might notice something about those three locations. They're all surrounding the North Sea. All three also have access to boats, and according to my Beloved, the Scots do mention defending from attacks by sea which may or may not be Vikings.
However, this isn't on my list. It gets a mention because the worlds would click together nicely and I like the idea of a crossover, but I must admit that Berk could be anywhere and although they can crossover, they don't so much overlap as they do "slot together nicely". I'm looking for something a little more tightknit than that.

#\ Pacific Rim & Half-Life
  (Pacific Portal)
Okay, the reason why this one isn't on the list is because Half-Life is a videogame franchise, so it's automatically void. It's a cool idea, but that's not what this list is about. Also, in order to make this universe work, we have to make quite a few assumptions.
So let's get the obvious links out of the way. Ellen McLain is the voice of the Jaeger A.I. in the film and GLaDOS from the Portal games, using the same voice in her Pacific Rim portrayal; the interdimensional tunnel from which the "kaiju" spawn (the Breach or the Portal) is reminiscent of the portal from end of Half-Life 2; both of these stories involve aliens trying to take over Earth & they both involve resolving these issues via Science.
The idea for this crossover is that these two universes take place in a divergent timeline from the Half-Life universe. whereby it wasn't Black Mesa that created Portal technology, but rather Aperture Science. The Resonance Cascade still occurred, but it crossed over into the Anteverse as opposed to Xen. As a result, Aperture science focussed on creating Jaegers instead of testing the Handheld Portal Device™. Cave Johnson used the mind-scanning technology for the "drifting" technology rather than immortalizing Caroline, and thus GLaDOS was used as a functional A.I. - all robot, no consciousness - and so never had the chance to go rogue which explains why she was used as the Jaeger operating system.
The problem with this crossover is that it's all hearsay. But it's a fun crossover idea, and definitely worth considering. Imagine a Jaeger controlled by Chell and Doctor Freeman. Or the potential for putting G-man in the Pacific Rim universe! I think I'd love any excuse to put that kind of character in any universe . . .

Anyway that's enough fun, now let's get serious. All of the crossovers I am about to propose make sense as far as I can see and I spent a long time reading through the Wild Mass Guessing pages of TV Tropes to find the best of these ideas. Although, just because this is serious, doesn't mean it can't be fun. If you write fanfiction, I heartily encourage you to explore these ideas in your stories, or just use these ideas as a jumping-off point for other ideas. After all, I don't claim these ideas as my own, I'm just putting together other peoples ideas to create something new. Now remember, some of these mention major spoilers for their respective films, you've been warned. So, here we go, this is . .

The A.W.N.'s Top 5 Movie Crossovers that Overlap in Awesome Ways

5\ Se7en & The Usual Suspects
  (The Se7enth Suspect)
Who was John Doe? After all, that's the name you give to someone whose name you don't know. So who is he? After all, most murderers are quite stupid. In real life serial killers are crazy and too obsessed with the outlet of killing to go planning them to any degree. So how is John Doe so good at what he's doing, insomuch as that he can plan these out for a year in advance? Not to mention, he's very good at evading the police, so much so that they only catch him when he walks into their police station, covered in blood.
Well, I'm suggesting that "John Doe" is actually Keyser Söze from The Usual Suspects. Never mind that they're both played by Kevin Spacey, let's look at the linking factors. The films came out in the same year, Suspects before Se7en. The characters are both famously psychopathic, they both like playing games with law enforcement, they're both lonesome, prolific killers and they're both played by Kevin Spacey (okay, I had to come back to it).
The underlying theory here, is that Keyser Söze doesn't want to be remembered, whereas John Doe does. Keyzer Söze's whole conceit is that he tricks the world into believing he doesn't exist, no one can catch him because it's as though he's never there. The events of The Usual Suspects was the first time anyone ever came close to catching him. Whereas John Doe commits these atrocities so that people will never forget him. So I believe that, after a successful career as a criminal, Keyser Söze wanted to go out with a bang. After all, if you'd been hiding all your life, wouldn't you want to be remembered? So he commits these murders with the intention of getting caught. This explains how he manages to evade police, how he acts so unlike a real serial killer and, of course, how he can so heartlessly force people into these horrific deaths (he did kill his own family, after all). So when the police fail to catch him - as they've failed to do so many times before - he gives up on the games and finally walks into the police station, covered in blood. Also, doesn't Doe tell Detective Mills that he "admires him" because he has a normal life and a family? Those comments take an even darker tone when you remember that Keyser Söze killed his own family . . .

4\ Indiana Jones & Stargate
  (Indiana Jones and the Doorway to Heaven)
Something that really pisses me off is when people that "claim" to be fans of movie franchises pretend that certain elements don't exist. Matrix "fans" claim that the sequels didn't happen; Star Wars "fans" pretend the prequel trilogy doen't exist & Indiana Jones "fans" claim that Kingdom of the Crystal Skull isn't canon, just because it involves aliens and not "gods". Well, if you were a real fan you'd realize that not only is that film irrefutable canon, but it might just explain the entirety of the film series . . .
As has already been pointed out, in Crystal Skull, the Mayans believe the aliens in that film to be gods. You know, it's weird, but that's kind of the premise of the Stargate Franchise. I mean, think about it, why would you store a Nazi-killing supercrate of death in the same facility as a dead, alien body? Well, my theory is, that this is the Area 51, just like the one from Stargate: SG-1. They store all alien technology for cataloguing, testing & reverse engineering. That leads onto my next point, all of these films deal with alien technology. The Ark of the Covenant - a self-contained weapon of mass destruction; The Sankara Stones - free energy generators; The Holy Grail - the sangraal already exists in the Stargate universe, as does a Fountain of Youth device, this must be some kind of composite of the two & The Crystal Skull - well, that's an alien already, there's no need for extra consideration. Just like so many other devices the Goa'uld left on Earth, these artefacts are just examples of alien influence which lead primitive cultures to worship them as gods. My favourite part of this is, in the Stargate Movie, they discover the stargate device itself in 1928, but they don't use it until 1994. Meanwhile, the Indiana Jones franchise takes place between 1936 and 1957, so this would explain the events between the discovery of the stargate and discovering its function. Of course, all of this happens before the events of the SG-1 television series. But for any potential crossover fiction, I would like to point out that, according to Stargate Canon, Earth possesses a "Beta Gate" that has been in Antarctica for quite a while. Come on people, these stories practically write themselves! This theory isn't bulletproof, but it does now explain who those "Top Men" from Ark of the Covenant were all along, Stargate Command.

3\ Matrix & Terminator
  (Terminatrix)
The Terminator franchise is concerned with the fight between humans and machines in the oncoming Judgement Day, and up until the fourth film, it's about humans slowly but surely losing the fight against the machines. The Matrix movies are about how we've already lost the fight against the machines, and are now trying to fight back using cyber-guerrilla tactics and/or organizing some kind of peace between man and machine. But there's more to it than that. Terminator androids, as time goes on, are becoming more advanced and are integrating more and more biological parts into their systems to fight humanity. If this crossover holds true, then by the time the Matrix movies happened, they had found ways to include those bodyplugs to integrate not just body but also mind into machinery. To me, it seems like a natural evolution of machine. Speaking of machine evolution, how long could it take to invent time travel? They've been doing this thing for quite some time now, who's to say that the terminators we send back aren't coming from the time of the Matrix movies? That would explain why we don't see them in the Matrix movies, the T-100s are actually some of the oldest models, they must be sending those back in the time-machines so that they can fight in the earliest days of the war.
Also, during Terminator Salvation, we see that the machines are already building themselves a city and slowly destroying what's left of human construction, it's only a matter of time before humans will have no place left on the surface. I just wonder when they decide to scorch the sky . . .
Not to mention, this explains why Morpheus has so much trouble explaining "who struck first", since the earliest days of the war involved time travel . . .

2\ Watchmen & Back to the Future
  (Watchmen 2: the Future)
Now, at first glance, very little seems similar between these two franchises. One's about some young kid trying to make sure time remains linear, while the other is about deconstructing the concept of superheroes, from a realistic point of view. The only real similarity is that they both take place in 1985.
But if superheroes existed in 1985, then there would be heroes in Hill Valley, right? it's a ridiculous notion. Except, I'm not claiming that superheroes exist in Marty's 1985. rather, I'm suggesting that superheroes exist in the alternate timeline (from Back to the Future II) known as 1985A . . .
Watchmen is set in a universe identical to our own, with a point of divergence some time before the Vietnam War (since that war is canon in Watchmen). Now according to Biff, he recieved the Grays Sports Almanac from "a relative" on the 12^th of November 1955, only a year before the Vietnam war (which explains why that war still happened). as we can see, Biff's influence causes the world to go to hell, with high crime rates and terrible living conditions for all but the rich. I believe that this high crime is what caused these otherwise ordinary people to start becoming costumed crime fighters. Remember, most of these "costumed heroes" don't really have amazing powers, although Nite Owl's gadgetry makes more sense if there's the precedent of a time-travelling Delorean. The only character with superpowers is Doctor Manhattan, and he was ordinary until his workplace accident on August 20, 1959, after Biff had recieved his almanac. Hell, with all that money, what is Biff Tannen if not a supervillain?
And of course, the most damning evidence. In both of these timelines, Richard Nixon was still the President of the United States during 1985. Although, I don't know what became of that timeline after Marty fixed it at the end of that film . . . did I mention that time travel is confusing? Because it is.

1\ Titanic & Inception
  (Deep Deception)
I am suggesting with this crossover that Brock Lovett hires Cobb to infiltrate Rose's dreams (using the dream-sharing device) and find the Heart of the Ocean jewel. Cobb is younger here (we know that Miles recruits them young), so there's no Mal because this happened before that. Cobb and the researchers enter Rose's dream together, but things get complicated.
First dream-layer: Old-Rose aboard the Keldysh; the crew are grilling Rose for information, but that's not working, so instead they use that information to send Cobb into the next layer, where he plans on infiltrating much deeper, to find the necklace.
Second dream-layer: Titanic, 1912. Cobb fakes a lucky hand during a poker game (he "used his imagination") to win tickets. He then proceeds to go through the entirety of the film to learn what he can about the jewel, while also playing the part of "Jack Dawson" because he doesn't want her subconscious to attack him. However, he's not as professional as he is in Inception, resulting in all the nudity and nookie that occurs. Unfortunately, during the fateful sinking of the ship. Cobb ends up dying from hypothermia, waking him up.
He then re-enters the dream, talks to the crew and heads down another layer, but by the time he finds her in her second dream-layer (because of the dream-time acceleration thing) she's now much older in her dream, and is again aboard the Keldysh [this is why you need a dream totem, it can get confusing as to which layer you're in], but she's fallen asleep, so, he enters her final dream-layer.
Third dream-layer: Sunken, Ghost-Titanic. Cobb enters into the final dream, and realizes that Rose is totally devoted to Jack, so much so that even her subconscious loves him, which is why all of the people applaud when they finally get together and kiss; her subconscious is as happy as she is. So that final kiss, I believe, creates an accidental inception, such that when she resurfaces to the first dream-layer, this causes her to throw the Heart of the Ocean into the water at the end, since she wholeheartedly believes that it's worthless in comparison to that love.
At the end, Lovett throws away his victory cigar and talks about how he "never got it", but is that because he never got the diamond? I believe, he did find it, but because of his experiences within Rose's dream, he looks at what he's doing and is ashamed of himself. There are a few more links to be found here and questions to be answered, but you'll have to find them for yourself.


Anyway, those are my "Top 5 Movie Crossovers", but they're not the only cool movie crossovers, and these are based on the research I could do in a single week, there's bound to be truckloads more, if you just take the time to look. If you know of any wicked cool movie crossover ideas (or if you've written a cool movie cross-fic), then please let me know, perhaps even in the comments section - drop me a link! - and of course, feel free to share around these ideas, or write your own stories with them, if you so desire. As I said, they're not mine, I just though they were awesome and I wanted to share. Even if you're not into fanfiction, all of these ideas help to ignite the imagination and inspire creative thinking. So please, share, link, write, create & comment to your heart's desire.

And, until next time, I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, and I've got some writing to do!

The Lost Art of the Heart

Hello, beautiful people! Today is the 13^th of February, and we're coming up on that most loved and lauded holiday, Valentine's Day - also known as Singles Awareness Day to some of us; so, I want to celebrate the occasion with something lovely. Last Valentine's Day, I did a post about romance movies, films which you can watch and enjoy with your significant other. This year, I want to do another helpful post.
But since last time, I was single and I was giving advice to couples. Well, this time I'm in a couple - here's looking at you, Beloved - so I figured I could give some advice to single people. They're so often left out on this day, so I'm going to give some advice, to the people that need it the most.

I recognize that there are some people that feel fine being single, or at least they're very good at pretending they're fine; pretending that they don't cry themselves to sleep every night when really they're slowly rotting away on the inside, screaming slowly and silently for true love to find them while outside they exist as the husk of a human being, a puppet that pulls its own strings like a möbius marionette, acting like a human being despite the missing pieces, outwardly displaying the affectations of happiness, while inside they're truly contemplating the benefits of buying a dozen cats and neglecting personal hygiene and . . . sorry, I lost my train of thought.
Anyway, I'm saying that today is all for you lonely singles, looking for love yet can't seem to find that special someone. And even if you're not single, I think this information is useful to everyone, because my advice ties directly into a word that has fallen into disuse in this modern era, and I feel like its loss is a detriment to the world of dating. The Word of the Day is: 'WOO'.

Woo /wū/ v.t. 1. To seek the favour, affection, or love of, especially with a view to marry; court; pursue; chase. 2. Cultivate; to seek to win: To woo fame. 3. To invite (consequences, whether good or bad) by one's own action; court: To woo one's own destruction. 4. To seek to persuade (a person, group, etc.), as to do something; solicit; importune; petition; sue; address; entreat; butter up. ♦v.i. 5. To try to win another's love, usually a woman; court: He was reminded of his youth when he went wooing. 6. To solicit favour or approval; entreat: Further attempts to woo proved useless.

The actual word I wanted for today was "COURT", but I might want to talk about law or the legal system one day, so I'd want to save that particular word for that occasion. However, the ways in which I use the word court are the same way that people use the word woo, so I hope you're not bothered if I use the two interchangeably.

Anyway, back on topic - So, how can I help out you singles? Well, dating is hard. Do you even know where to meet people?
That's not rhetorical, I mean that as a legitimate question (answer in the comment section, if you've got a good answer). Because I don't know anywhere good. Everywhere that is culturally acceptable as a place for single people to meet one another, is a venue that serves alcohol, and I don't think that's conducive to finding your true love. If you want to meet someone, inebriation and sensory deprivation is, at best, a hindrance. I've been known to say: You won't find your a spouse in a nightclub.
But, once you do meet someone, what do you do? Because from what I've seen, people just find a stranger and enter into a commitment after you fall for for this stranger, based on looks; then get to know them and you spend a few months of your life with them & if they're incompatible, you break up, get heartbroken, waste a month or so feeling sorry for yourself and then try again in this vicious cycle of:
Find Stranger > Date Stranger > Test Compatibility > Break-up > Heartbreak > . . . rinse, lather and repeat until you find true love. Some people like this method, since after a while, it does work, you just have to try long enough until you either settle for someone, get sick of it and stick with someone you despise or get horribly depressed.
This may seem like a laugh; "Isn't Dating Weird?" is akin to "What is the deal with airline food?", but this is serious business, and it's not unheard of for all that heartbreak and stress leads to depression, it's part of the reason I fell victim to depression. I couldn't much take all these games of the heart, it was exhausting. So, we've found our problem, what's the solution?

Well, allow me to introduce you to a new concept, or should I say old concept: Courting.
What I hate about dating, is that it's dancing on the edge of a knife. There's already enough pressure, since you're looking for someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, and it's ripe with risk, yet I keep seeing people become "girlfriend/boyfriend" before they even know one another. They don't get to know one another first because they're worried about falling into the Friend Zone, or just because that's how society tells us to date.
But how is that clever? Only ever dating people after you've made a commitment to them. Then there are so many games that people play and there's so much risk involved (and potential heartbreak).
Well, wooing them kind of cuts through all of this bullshit. Basically, you find someone that you're attracted to, I don't care who - male, female, cisgendered, otherwise and what have you - this works across the board, because there's no trick to it. My only suggestion is, this works best with mature people, especially if you've dated or felt love before, because then the two of you will understand why this method is preferable.
So, anyway, instead of saying "I fancy you, will you go out with me?", basically, if you know they're single and you find them attractive [and sexually compatible, like hetero-, homo-, what have you], you just let them know that you're single & that you find them attractive. I, personally, find that the best method is to flat-out tell them "I'd like to court you" or "You're a really beautiful/clever [person], and I'd like to know you better" but the ball's in your court, and this works best if you're being true to yourself and to them.

Okay, I should probably mention, this won't be easy. I've only had one proper girlfriend, and she turned out to be perfect, so I haven't had the opportunity to test out the many subtleties of courting; but, basically, you should tell this person that you're attracted to: "I fancy you and I'd like to get to know you (perhaps you can get to know me) without commitment; so that we can find out if a relationship would be a good idea. Would you mind?"
You don't have to phrase it like that, if you don't want to, but the key point is: Make your intentions clear. There's this thing people talk about, the Friend Zone, and that is basically when you fall for someone and they don't fall for you and so many people are scared of falling into that trap. But what do you expect, if they don't even know that you're keen on them? Subtlety is great when it comes to assassination and farting in a lift, but not romance.
Also, if you're like me (since I get quite nervous around beautiful women) you might find it stressful to approach someone that you fancy and solicit their company with the pressures of potential partnership over the horizon, and this solves a lot of that. This is just like you're testing the waters before diving in, it's smarter and safer. So, if you're keen on someone, let them know, and if you tell them you'd like to court and they don't find you attractive, well that's job done. Move on. Don't get caught up and turn into a stalker; I tried that, and it doesn't work.

But if they're cool with it, you can then start wooing the lovely lady, or gentleman as the case may be. Basically, the courting period is like flirting, but more informative. You figure out all the important questions that you'd otherwise have to find out after the fact:
Do/Have you take(n) drugs? Are you vegetarian? Do you want kids? Are you the member of a cult or religion? (Be honest now) Are you a serial killer? Have you ever been affiliated with the persecutions associated with Nazi Germany or its allies? What kind of music do you like? What are your plans for the future?
You know, the usual stuff. But at the same time, it's not all business, because you still get to flirt, to tell her she's sweet and beautiful, or tell him that he's strong and tall or whatever. I consider wooing like a form of proto-dating, you're doing this stuff together, but there's an understanding that you know this might not work out. However, once you've spent a long enough time around one another and asked all the relevant questions, you should be able to figure out if you're right for one another. Because either you'll be arguing a lot and making a mess of things, or you'll be getting along swimmingly and you'll find yourselves agreeing and having fun together most of the time.
It's hard to explain, because details will vary from person to person and it's probably a lot harder than I'm making it out, I'm not saying this will solve the dating problem for everyone, but it certainly did for me.

When I first met my Beloved, we were only friends who'd met to talk about writing fiction; we were just buddies really, although I knew she was really intelligent (something I look for in a partner). Then, when we each learned what the other looked like, we were attracted; however, we were worried because we were both unsure about starting a relationship, so we courted instead.
I got to tell her she was beautiful, and when you're lonely, you sometimes forget how good it is to tell someone you fancy what you genuinely think of them. She would tell me I was clever and we'd also laugh together and have a lot of fun, with honesty and passionate discussions about film and literature. All the while, we were learning more about one another. As time went on, we just kind of fell in love with one another, naturally [this was over a period of about two months]. It wasn't a forced coupling of two people who had just met, the more we slowly learned more about one another and had fun together, the more I fell in love with her, and she with me.
Finally, I told her (in these words, more or less): "This courting period was fun and all, but I genuinely feel my heart-throbbing in my chest whenever we speak; I know that I want more and I'm hoping you do too. I love you, [Beloved]."
After a little while that felt like a whole lifetime, she said that she had feelings for me too. And the girl I call Beloved has been my girlfriend ever since.

I'm not going to lie, this "courting" thing isn't perfect (nothing is). There's still a bit of posturing and games, because you're allowed to be sweet on one another, and you're sort of advertising your own abilities within a relationship, but you can't be too forward and you should be doing what you can so that you don't get hurt, there are still social conventions involved (because they're not your girlfriend or boyfriend, yet). Also, it might not work out, as I said, this worked for me on the first time, really, so I don't know what's the best method for dealing with that; but so long as you're honest with one another, then I imagine that this will come as a natural separation, rather than a break-up.
This is the solution to the problem of "dating is too complicated" not a solution to the problem of "I'm lonely and single", I can't guarantee this will work for everyone. But I wanted to share it with everyone, because . . . well, it's almost Valentine's Day.
Perhaps you'll spend this Valentine's Day as a single person, but you needn't next year! After all, it's "Single's Awareness Day". So be aware of those other single people around you, and if you find someone else that's lonely on Valentine's Day, and you find them attractive, why don't you approach them? Strike up a conversation, talk about how you're single and feel lonely on Valentine's Day, and maybe you could even try wooing them, and suggest trying out this cool "courting" idea. Because you never know . . . you might just find a Beloved of your own.

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, I love you all - I hope you have a great day tomorrow and until next time, I'm going to spend Valentine's Day with my girlfriend, because I love her more than anything in the world. ~♥~

Winners Never Cheat

In doing research for today's blog post, I learned something quite shocking. There is a lot of literature that is about adultery (that alone is not so shocking, it's ripe for drama, of course there are stories about it). However, did you realize that more than 90% of the characters which are shown as adulterers and as sympathetic characters are female? In literature, if a man cheats then he's a monster, a bastard and a cretin, but if a woman cheats, she's much less likely to be seen as a harlot. That is, in literature anyway. In the real world, cheaters across the board are portrayed quite harshly.

In fact, it's because of that real world demonization of cheaters that has lead me to this research, because today I want to talk about infidelity. I've never cheated myself, but I do know people that have and I want to talk about what I know. However, many of these people I'm about to talk about are friends of mine, and I don't want to risk them getting in trouble. So, for their benefit, I've changed their names to those from classic literature and Greek mythology. See, I'm not here to tell you that cheaters are good people. Then again, I'm not here to tell you that cheaters are bad people, either. Today, I want to talk about those relational indiscretions. Because, in my own experience, when someone cheats, it's not always as simple as "Well, they cheated because they're bad people." In fact, sometimes, it's the cheater that's the victim. If you don't believe me, well, the Word of the Day is: 'ADULTERY'

Adultery /ə'dultəree/ n. Voluntary sexual relations between a married person and anyone other than his or her lawful partner.

Before we go too far, let's all remember, some people are arseholes. I know that there are people who cheat because they are selfish. They don't have enough respect for their partner, they're not empathetic & they just use people for sexual pleasure. These people are terrible people and they do exist. So while my goal today is to open your eyes to the plight of the adulterer and how they may be the real victim in some cases . . . this is not the whole story. Life and love are complicated, so there's no one answer. But next time you hear about someone who has been unfaithful, I want you to consider the following.

The other day, I was talking to a friend that I will call Circe. Now, Circe is a good girl, she's been hurt in love before and she's lonely, she really wanted to find that special someone. Now, the reason she was talking to me was because she had found a guy, that I'm calling Odysseus, they'd met online and they were really hitting it off. I thought it was great for her and I congratulated Circe, but she was still a bit worried and I asked why. She explained that the object of her affections, Odysseus, was actually living with his partner, whom I'm calling Penelope. Circe went on to say that she was in a bind because she didn't want to break them up, but Odysseus had told her that Penelope and he would argue all the time and they never did "boyfriend/girlfriend" stuff anymore, and that he wanted to break up and that he wanted to be in a good relationship. However, because of his financial situation, if he left her he'd be on the street, he was trapped. To Circe, this was a moral dilemma. She'd either be leaving him stuck in a horrible relationship, or she'd be the 'the other woman' and complicit in his infidelity.
So I told Circe what I'm going to tell you: If he is unhappy, that's not really a relationship. I mean, there are no broken hearts if Odysseus leaves Penelope, they hate one another. But Odysseus was falling for Circe, really hard. If he leaves her, then it'll break both of their hearts. I mean, be honest here, is Odysseus really a bad guy?
It's not like Circe is a "home-wrecker". This is a household that was already wrecked. Who really broke this relationship? Am I supposed to believe that this is a story of adultery and "sin" because Penelope was there first?

What about this. I know a guy from school whom I'm going to name Jay Gatsby. Now, in school, Jay loved this girl that I'm going to call Daisy. They were boyfriend/girlfriend for a while, but that didn't work out. I think Daisy cheated on Jay at school, but I also think he was on drugs pretty much every day, so nobody was the good guy, this was a bad thing. They were children, what do you expect? Kids are stupid. However, after school, I got to know these people a little better, starting with Daisy. I came to understand that she's a fun girl, she's a bit silly and flighty at times, but she's a good girl. And she fell for this guy, whom I'm going to call Tom Buchanan. Now, Tom is a prick. I gave this guy the nickname "Cockbite" because he is really an annoying bastard, I've heard stories of aggression, but that's irrelevant because I don't know if it's true. But even if it's not true, he is not a good person. He's self-centred, arrogant, egotistic & loud. Now, for reasons that I cannot comprehend, Daisy fell for Cockbite. Sorry, I mean Tom (I have to stick to the names I've made up for these people, sorry), and eventually, Tom proposed to Daisy, she said yes and they were engaged. However, before their wedding . . . Jay came back. He'd been doing his own thing for a while, he's a bit flighty like that, but he came back to see how his school-friends were doing. And, after getting to know Daisy again and catching up on old times, they slept together. I don't know the sordid details, but I don't have to, I know that they talked, the spark came back and they had sex. And not just once, a few times. Yet, she then left, Tom and Daisy got married, and she's Daisy Buchanan now.
Now, this sounds like it's not a great example, and the truth is that it's not. Daisy Buchanan and Jay are not "great" people, sleeping with married women and lying to their partner like that. But the thing is, this is human.
I know that Cockbi- . . . sorry, Tom is a bad guy. I also am sure, because Tom is so arrogant, if Daisy told Tom "I slept with Jay", I think he'd punch her in the face. I think he's that kind of guy, that kind of a horrible prick. I don't know if he's hit her, but from the way he acts I know that he doesn't treat her as well as a loving partner should.
Jay isn't really the guy for her either, because he was a drug addict and he's not much of an achiever, but he does love her dearly. Now, I'm not going to say that Daisy is completely in the right, because she's not. But . . . I can't blame them, because Daisy wanted that intimacy from Jay, which Tom couldn't give her and she wanted more than she had. These are all broken people, doing the best with what they have. I can't look at this story and go "Well, she shouldn't have done that and he shouldn't have slept with her" because it's just not true. In a perfect world, either Jay would get his act together and be the man Daisy needs, or Daisy would leave Tom and get a real man, and Tom would just . . . I don't care what happens to Tom, so long as it happens far away from me.

Or, a much harsher example. I know a man I'm going to call Zeus. Now, Zeus married a woman that I'm going to call Hera (no, it wasn't his sister, don't read too much into these allonyms). Now, these two had been married for a very long time, they even had a whole bunch of kids (Eris & Eileithyia, Hephaestus & Hebe). And they were a family. Now, Zeus, he cheated on Hera. He slept with a woman I'm going to call Io. He also slept with a woman I'm calling Gaia. In fact, I think he even slept with someone I'm going to call Lamia. Now, on the outside, it looks like Zeus was a terrible person. Who would cheat on his wife with so many people?! But that's the thing, as I've been trying to explain throughout this post, it's not that simple.
See, Zeus loved Hera dearly, he loved her with a passion. However . . . Hera was a bad person. Every second of every day that Zeus went home, Hera would abuse him. Mentally, emotionally & physically, she would blame him for everything wrong in their lives, she would control him & she would lie to him all the time. Zeus just wanted it to work, he tried to get them to go to counselling, but Hera refused, since she thought they'd call her crazy. He tried to make it work, he moved house twice and even changed jobs because Hera wanted him to make more money. He did everything he could to make her happy, yet she would constantly abuse him, and she even started taking it out on the kids.
Now, he wasn't cheating on Hera because he was a bad person, he wanted it to work. As far as I'm concerned, he was just craving that kind of emotional investment that he just wasn't receiving from his partner.

I'm hoping it's obvious by now, but just to be sure, let me spell it out:
Sometimes, people cheat on their partners because they're trying to get from other people what they should be getting from their partner.
Odysseus wanted love from Penelope, and didn't, so he found it in Circe; Daisy wanted Tom to care about her more than himself, he didn't, so she found that kind of devotion in Jay; Zeus just wanted to be happy with his wife, Hera, but all he got was abuse, so he looked for it (in other goddesses) and I'm happy to say that he is now divorcing Hera, because he's found true happiness with his new girlfriend, who I'm calling Europa.

See, the Beatles were Wrong. They have that famous song, with the line "Love is all you Need", well, that's bullshit.
All of these relationships? They started with Love. Once you've felt that flutter in your heart and deep desire for another person, you crave it. That's the reason we enter into relationships, because we want love and we need the love of another person. But it's a drug, we get hooked on it, even when we're with people that are bad for us, because we don't want to risk losing that love.
But relationships are about more than that. They're about chemistry, reliability, amenity, sexuality, joviality & equality - all of these and probably more. People crave love, but they need care, emotional support and happiness in their relationships as well. If they don't get what they're looking for in their partner, they will seek it out in other people.

This isn't just about sex. Occasionally it is (as I said these arseholes exist) and those people deserve your ire; if I wanted more sex from my partner, I'd tell my partner. So, most of the time, I'd wager that people are cheating because they feel like their partners are not giving them the emotional investment that they want in a relationship. Because as the title says "winners never cheat". If you're in a good relationship, your partner won't cheat on you.
Sometimes it's a bad relationship because the adulterer doesn't respect their partner, but sometimes it's because the adulterer feels like their partner doesn't respect them.
Just because a person cheats, it doesn't mean they are a bad person. Some adulterers cheat because they're looking for that missing piece of the puzzle hoping it will complete their relationship. Of course, if you've found yourself cheated on, I'm not saying that you need to give them a second chance and blame yourself; love and life are complicated and there's no one answer to every problem.

Some people think we need to blame the adulterer every time (especially if it's a man). Yet, if you look at the bigger picture, you'll start to see - as I do - that adultery is often just a symptom of a worse disease: unfulfillment.
Or, perhaps their just an unfaithful sack of shit . . .

I'm the Absurd Word Nerd, and this was kind of a heavy concept, especially since we're approaching Valentine's Day. So I'll try to lighten it up for my upcoming post, okay?
Until next time, I'm going to go tell my girlfriend how much she means to me.

Missing Link in the Chain

Are you excited about the upcoming Winter Olympic games in Sochi, Russia? Well, I'm not. I am going to avoid watch the Olympics this year. Why? Well, let me tell you a story.
My girlfriend once told me that, in school, she tried to sign up to do wrestling as the mandatory sport, because she wanted to know how to fight. She's quite petite and wanted to be strong and know how to defend herself; however, she wasn't allowed to join the team. It turns out that, despite the sign-up sheet asking for volunteers - come one come all - they forgot to nail up the banner that said "No Girls Allowed"; as they didn't offer the sport for girls.

Now, I sort of have mixed feelings about all of this. I know a lot of girls don't bother to consider wrestling a viable sport and I would never want to watch a mixed-sex wrestling match. However, this is an issue of representation. This wasn't "the boy's wrestling team", it was just "the wrestling team", promoting an outward visage of inclusivity, while in reality it was actually kind of sexist.
Why am I talking about all of this? Well, because I believe that this kind of thing is a microcosm of the real issue at the core of my own disgust towards the Sochi Winter Olympic Games.
Allow me to explain. The Word of the Day is: 'WRESTLING'.

Wrestling /resling/ n. 1. An exercise or sport in which two people struggle hand to hand, each trying to throw or force the other to the ground. 2. The act of someone who wrestles.

Besides my Beloved's wrestling story, I chose the word "wrestling" because I think it's kind of ironic. In the Ancient Olympics, after a century or two of Olympics involving footraces, they included the sport of "Pále", now more commonly known as Greek Wrestling, where competitors, exclusively men, used to get naked, slather themselves in oil and grapple one another; and if they broke any of the rules, the disobedient party would be whipped by the referee. Although it was painful and competitive, it can be understood why I would call such an activity homoerotic. And considering that Ancient Greeks openly accepted the idea of a young man and an older man entering into a sexual relationship, it's fair to say that, originally, the olympics were not homophobic. That was in the year 708 B.C.

Yet, here In 2014 A.D. - More than two-and-a-half millennia later - Russia is refusing to acknowledge the rights of non-heteronormative persons in the lead-up to the Winter Olympic Games, which Sochi is hosting.
Yes, we're going there again. I am boycotting the Olympics because of Russia's Anti-Gay Laws.

Now, some of the people I have told about my "Boycott Sochi" plan have disagreed with my methods. Not because they are homophobic or anything like that, but rather because they are cynical of its potential, they say:
- "This is more likely to hurt the contestants than Russian politicians."
- "This is political, not economic; You can't boycott a country."
- "Not watching the Olympics isn't going to reverse the laws."
To this I say . . . yeah, perhaps not. I am not going to tell anyone that this is a brilliant plan, because it's not. The only way this will work is if the majority of people also boycott the Sochi Winter Olympics and I know that's not going to happen, there are other elements at play here. Sports people will watch it anyway, and there are a lot of other countries involved here, it's hard to reach out to all of them.
However, that being said, I stand steadfastly by my boycotting decision, for a simple reason.

My views are unconditional. I will not cease being pro-love, or an ally of the LGBTI community just because my efforts are ineffective. And yeah, this probably won't work. But I'm not doing it "to change the laws" [although that would be lovely]. I'm doing this because I don't have to put up with Russia's bullshit. This is about principle and precedent.
If I don't stand for what I believe in now then why should I later? And I honestly believe that whether or not my inclusion in the Olympics affects anything, I do not believe that Russia deserves my attention. I don't believe that the Russian government deserves the revenue it will inevitably receive from tourism and international promotion. I don't believe Russia deserves my respect, while they salute their own greatness during the inevitable, self-congratulatory Opening Ceremony.
Not while they continue to oppress, suppress and disenfranchise innocent people.

[Now, keep in mind, I don't hate Russians. Do not dare consider this some excuse to be racist or anti-Russian. I am not promoting hatred towards Russia or its people; when I say "Russia" I really mean "The Russian Government", not "The Russian People. An awful lot of Russians are fighting the good fight as well, this isn't something that the people decided, it was their government. My goal is not to have anyone being prejudiced towards anyone else; I just want more people to be on the side of equal rights for everyone.]

The Olympics is supposed to be inclusive. Yes, once, only the Freemen of Greece could compete; but we've evolved passed that. We've progressed towards the future, and now everyone has the potential to compete. Not only is it now an international tournament that promotes global unity, but with the inclusion of the Paralympics & the Youth Olympics, it is more inclusive then ever. Yet, here we are and I can't help but feel that this is the same as my Beloved's wrestling story; it all seemed inclusive until she looked behind the curtain. Just as the Olympics say they include everyone, but so long as Sochi is hosting these games, that's just a façade. It is a mere veneer of inclusivity that hides the truth . . .

Ever since they have enacted these laws, Non-heterosexual Russians are not allowed to talk about their sexuality, promote activism and equal rights or display non-heteronormative affections in a public places.
While silence may not seem cruel, it is promoting a culture of homophobia and anti-gay violence, which some say has already increased the number of gay-bashings in Russia and instances of homophobic attacks, including torture [warning: linked article is disgusting]. But, violence aside, this is not the way a civilized society should treat innocent people.

Now, if you want to ignore all that and watch some professional athletes play around in the snow, go right ahead, I can't stop you. As I've said before, I'm a narrator, not a dictator.
But I personally, cannot ignore the fact that, at the end of the day, people are suffering. Unless and until they change their ways, I will boycott the Sochi Olympics; Russia & anyone else who, in this day and age, does not support equality in all its colours and creeds.

Do you know why the Olympics is represented by 5 interlocking rings, colored blue, yellow, black, green, and red? It's because the six colours of the flag (including the white background) represent the colours of every flag; all of the countries that competed in the olympics at the time, all linked together.
  "…the six colors thus combined reproduce the colors of all the nations, with no exception […] Here is truly an international symbol."

- Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the flag's designer.

But I feel like there's a missing link in the chain. There's one flag that feels left out . . . the Rainbow Flag. Sure, it has a few of its colours, but I think we need to remind people that this is supposed to be a symbol of unity. Not just for all countries, but all people.
I'm not suggesting we change the actual flag. But so long as this discrimination exists, I will salute a new symbol of international equality: OOOOOO
Until next time, I'm the Absurd Nerd, and I want to leave you with this quote we could, perhaps, all live by; from a famous pro wrestler and six-time WCW World Heavyweight Champion:
  "I fear no man, no beast or evil, brother."

- Terry Gene Bollea (Hulk Hogan)