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After the Original Horatio Story (draft)

The streamtrain pulled to a sluggish stop at the Brokeridge Flats train station. Billows of steam pushed out into the throngs of waiting passengers on the platform as Horatio and Sarah descended the small stepladders down from the train carriage, "Church mentioned something about a temple," Sarah said, eyeing the platform, "do you know what he was talking about?"

Horatio paused momentarily, his fingers caressing his unshaven chin, "I would stake my life he means the Temple of the Unending Life," the two began to walk towards the station's exit, "It's the only likely candidate. The temple was forged from the side wall of a volcano hundreds of years ago by a group of rogue priests searching for eternal life - the Gods' Gift, they called it. I would bet that is where Crook has taken the goblet."

A small shudder wracked the station, knocking a few older passengers off balance, "And it looks like we're running out of time. The early tremors have begun." Horatio's gaze turned icy as he walked towards the information desk, "Excuse me, but how long ago did these tremors start?"
"Oh, prob'ly a day or so ago," said the man at the desk, "Gov'ment says t'ain't nothin' to be frettin' on, just one o' them old volcano's shaken its weight around. Should be headin' back to sleep sometime soon, I reckon."
"Not likely," Horatio said under his breath, "thank you." The began to walk with purpose towards the exit.
"Wait a moment," Sarah said, a confused tone to her voice, "I didn't know there were this many volcano's this side of the continent - didn't you say you went through one in the tunnels of fire and ice, too?"
"Yes," Horatio said, stones in his voice, "it seems unusual, but the government keeps quiet about how many actual active, or post-active, volcanos there are on the continental United States. They don't want to scare anybody away, so they tell everyone they're all dormant. It's nothing but lies."

The Tunnels of Fire and Ice (draft)

As Horatio emerged from the tunnels, he was met with a bright red light. A thick wave of heat slammed against him and he braced himself. Before him was a monstrous passageway, forged from the inner sanctum of the mountain, its walls extending up further than he cared to guess. He looked around. On either side of his walkway lay enormous pools of pulsating lava. He could feel the heat through his clothes, a slow burn getting hotter each moment.

A volcano, he thought, of course it had to be a volcano. He cursed under his breath and wiped his brow. This was not going to be easy. A substantial glob of lava slammed onto the rocky passageway beside him and sizzled. Not easy at all.

He began creeping along the rocky formation which acted as a bridge for him between the two extensive rivers of molten rock. This needed to be done at pace and he knew it. He wouldn't survive in here for long.

As he began to walk, he remembered Sarah's words, "Make light feet and your goal will be easy." Beginning to run, he hoped she was right.

"You aren't getting away that easily!" an echoing voice caused more lava to fall around Horatio on the rocky walkway. He deftly avoided it, one glob singing the back of his coattails, "I still have control of this mountain! Your fate is in my hands!"

"Curse you, Barclay!" Horatio turned and saw Barclay standing by the opening he had used to enter this tunnel of fire, "You can't stop me!"

"Oh, I beg to differ, Captain!" Barclay began reciting a hurried incantation and threw what appeared to be several gems into the lava pits below, "This cavern will be your tomb!"

With a suddenness that caused Horatio to momentarily lose his footing, the walls began to shake and the lava to bubble with a violent fever, "What have you--" Horatio began, but saw the Barclay turn and run as rocks blocked off the entranceway. Now Horatio only had one way to go. He picked up his pace and ran full pelt towards the end of the stone passageway on which he stood.

Crashing and slamming, giant chunks of rock and spheres of lava began pouring down upon the Captain. Whirling and turning, he dodged the falling lava.

Slam!

A large chunk of rock fell against Horatio's arm and he fell prone on the hot stone, "No!" he shouted at himself, "Get up! Get up!" he could feel the tremendous heat against his face, felt his energy being sapped by the demonic mountain. With heroic strength, Horatio forced himself upright and began running once more towards the other end of the cavern.

Not today, he thought, I'm not falling today.

Crack.

Horatio risked a glance upwards and saw a tremendous portion of the cavern wall break loose and fall towards him, "Light feet, light feet!" he said to himself as he ran, making a great leap forward with all the strength his calves could carry.

Crash!

The chunk of stone slammed onto the catwalk, cracking it and breaking off significant parts of its structure. Rock fell in waves down into the pits of molten lava, but Horatio was still running. His great leap had moved him just far enough out of the stone's reach to allow him to keep running. Any slower and he'd be history, "Not today." He said, a stony solidity to his voice.

Just as a large wave of lava and rock slammed into the stone where Horatio had just stood, the brave Captain had once more leapt and landed in the safety of a small crawlspace. The heat followed him down the burrow and sweat poured profusely from his brow.

Out of the frying pan, he thought as he emerged into another of the volcano's caverns, into a brightly lit chamber. The light blinded him for a moment and he shielded his eyes. When he opened them, he held before him a splendid vision of a cavernous construction made entirely from glaciers of the deepest blue. The cavern seemed to go on for miles upwards and across, Fantastic, he thought, out of the frying pan and into the freezer.

Horatio looked around and saw he stood on a thin, bridge-like form of slick ice and rock.

I'll have to watch my step, he thought, a small crack of a smile creeping up his cheek.

The heat from before had faded from his body, being replace with an at first soothing, then biting chill. Horatio's breath misted in the frozen air. He examined the far the room in which he stood. The bridge extended to the other side of the hall, but there didn't seem to be any kind of door there. No escape. Simply sheer walls of glacial ice, "Well this is a fine how-do-you-do."

Horatio walked from one end of the bridge to the other and inspected the walls. There were no secret doors, no hidden passages, nothing. His only way out, was up.

Pulling on his gloves, he looked upwards. There was definitely an opening in the ceiling of the cavern, but no telling how high it was. This is going to be harder than the lava room, he thought. He never thought he'd ever catch himself missing a self-destructing room full of lava.

He gripped firmly onto the glacial walls and began to climb. Looking at his belt, he wished he had his small axe or something of the sort. All he had left was his six-shooter, and he didn't feel a pistol was conducive to helping him scale a wall of ice.

Horatio climbed for what seemed like hours. His muscles burned, pain through his body like lightning bolts.

Click.

An explosion rocked the cave wall. Debris showered on Horatio as he fell, grasping empty hands at the wall. When he managed to catch a protruding piece of the wall, he stopped for a moment. His heart raced, his ears rang, his breath was quick.

Clever, Barclay, he eyed the walls and could now see the thin wires placed at periodic intervals along the wall, setting explosives along the cave wall. Very clever, indeed.

The Captain began once more to climb, his muscles screaming under the stress. It took him time to reach where he had once been. A crater in the ice lay where he had once stood. He pressed his face against the wall, spying for trip wires. They crosshatched the wall like a spider's web, shining in the light of the chamber, I'm not going to be your fly, Barclay.

With a cheetah's agility and the grace of a lion on the prowl, Horatio climbed the walls.

Hours passed as Horatio climbed, his body aching but his will strong. The exit was finally within sight. He could feel the fresh air blowing in, I'm coming, Sarah, he thought, putting hand over hand, his gloves soaked through, I'm coming.

As he reached the top, Horatio realised the cavern walls sloped inwards. It would be impossible to sustain himself upside down on these walls, not while his body was so tired. He would have to jump.

Prepping his feet, he coiled himself, ready to make the final leap towards the opening. Breathing deeply, he leapt.

Click.

Flying through the air Horatio had seen it. The trip wire's thin sheen had escaped him in his tired state. He had seen it too late. In his final leap he had crashed through a trip wire lain deliberately near the mouth of the cavern.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions set off all across the cave. Chunks of ice flew through the air as Horatio did, pieces passing him, some striking him. Ice rained down to the bottom of the cavern, sending up rippling echoes.

Then Horatio's heart fell. A large chunk of ice, one containing the edge of the cavern's opening he was aiming for, broke loose. The opening was no bigger, but Horatio was aimed directly at nothing.

Oh, perfect!

With quick footwork, he worked himself to make a second leap off the falling chunk of ice. The extra jump boosted his trajectory just enough to send him towards another edge of the opening.

Winding him, he slammed into the ice. His hands struggled to scratch at a place to hold as his lungs struggled for air. Slipping mostly down into the void, he managed to catch himself. Horatio hung from the ceiling of the cavern, sucking in deep breaths, his eyes watering, his lungs burning.

Finally, he caught his breath. His arms shook. He couldn't hold on. With every last ounce of strength he had, he crawled like a man from hell out of the cavern, and lay on the dirt above.

Then all went black.

Horatio awoke with a jump, slamming himself into the wall behind him. He cringed and held his head. With quick movements, he examined the room he was in. A woman entered, "Oh, you're awake." She said, coming towards him with a wet towel.

"I am," Horatio eyed her, then himself, pleased to see he was still dressed but for his coat, "where am I? How long have I been asleep?"

"You've been out for nigh on a two days, sir," said the woman, pressing the towel onto Horatio's brow, "we all been worried you'd never wake."

Two days! The words echoed in Horatio's mind like earthquakes, "Good heavens!" he shouted, throwing himself from the bed, "Where am I?!" Horatio drew his six-shooter.

The woman shrieked and dropped her water bowl, "Heavens, sir," she whimpered, "You're in Silverwater Dale! A small home outside-a town!"

Silverwater Dale. The train station, "Where's the train station?"

"Some ways down the road," the woman gathered up her bowl and towel, "you'll need a horse. A man saunterin' into town without a horse'll surely cause some starin'."

"A horse. Yes." Horatio sheathed his pistol, "Pardon for the excitement, I hadn't expected such a…delay. Can I be so rude as to ask for one of your horses?"

"Surely. Seems you got the eyes to be fixin' to somethin' big. I ain't gonna be standin' in your way."

Horatio nodded.

Within moments, Horatio was saddled up, hat on his head and coat on his back, "Thanks once more for the care you took of me," Horatio said, fixing himself into the stirrups, "I don't know how I can possibly repay you."

"Don't be fixin' to bother. We're happy to help, is all."

And off he went.

Soon Horatio arrived at the town proper of Silverwater Dale. A small berg with nothing to offer, but filled with kind, honest folk.

"Train station's that way, sir." Said the boy. Horatio flicked him a coin and nodded, "Thank you, mister!"

As Horatio arrived at the station, the train was pulling out, Of course, he thought dryly, "Hee-ah!" the horse whinnied and began galloping at speed. Horatio was quickly alongside the caboose of the steamtrain. Reaching out, he caught on to the safety bars and hoisted himself onto the viewing platform, "Go home!" he shouted after the horse and it turned on its heels and ran.

The Captain opened the door to the caboose with a thud. The door opened, smacking a man on the other side, knocking him, and the serving trolley he was standing next to, over. Raising his eyes from the man on the floor to the rest of the carriage, Horatio saw the unshaven faces of a collection of Tobias Crook's goons, led by the slovenly Dwight Church, "Well, well, well, if it ain't Captain Horatio Silverthorn."

A Czar is Born

That time of year has come again and a new show is being put up at the Seymour Centre, one which y'all will surely enjoy!
A Czar is Born - written by band member of super FLORENCE jam, Laurence Rosier Staines - is a comedic pseudo-musical wrapped in dancing, witticisms and superfluous romance!
After a practically sell out run at Sydney University's Cellar Theatre, the show has made a return as an official selection for the Sydney Fringe Festival, which features some of the best theatre, music and art on offer from locals in Australia.
The show goes up on Saturday September 11th at the Seymour Centre in Sydney, and tickets are available now for purchase from either the Seymour Centre or from the Sydney Fringe Festival website.
The best part? It features yours truly in the play's Greek Chorus, so come along and enjoy!

To the Doctor!

I went to my GP at the insistence of hospital staff. I handed him the CD of ultrasound photos and a letter from the emergency on-call doctor.
After telling him what they said and did he asked, "Did they get a urine sample?"
"Yes."
"Hmm...could we get one now? I'd rather send out with our lab."
"I...yeah, I think so."
So, I peed in another cup.
He told me the results report from the ultrasound came in to him and that it was possibly the beginnings of a vericocele, which was basically the veins on the left side of my ball become inflamed or larger.
"For now," he said, "you don't have to worry about it as they used words like "might", "may" and "beginnings of", but if it gets worse, come back. This could cause testicular heating and affect sperm production."
"Oh. Okay."
And then he sent me home.

Emergency and Co.

Seeing as I have a hypochondriac for a mother and still being of age for testicular cancer, any remarkable change in my nethers leads me to assume the worst. Such a fright occurred the other day when I noticed one was more swollen than the other. Not wanting to lose one or die, I coaxed dad into driving me to emergency so a doctor could look at it.
"Call to see how long the wait is first."
So I called, "Mate, it varies every half hour. No way to tell how long you'll wait."
A waste of time if ever there was one. We drove to the place anyway and signed me in, "Wait here in the row of blue chairs and someone will see you soon."
A man, not much older than myself, paced in a circle around the perimeter of the room, muttering songs of "Harri Krishna" and "Red Brick House" and things like, "This isn't fun anymore", "go away" and "I don't want to die". He was clearly in the middle of a fiendish high from someone unknown drug and he wasn't enjoying himself. I felt for the wretch, even though he had brought this upon himself.
Two cops came into the ward and asked to be let in as they were called in for an assault which took place within the hospital. Another two later came by to view "the deceased". That was unnerving.
Strangely, the only television in the room was playing gruesome medical shows and any effects the testicular problem was giving me were far outweighed by nausea at the shows.
I was soon called in to the nurse's office to give details on why I was there and then asked to provide a urine sample.
With my little plastic cup an baggy in hand, I moved to the only bathroom in the place. The man on drugs came in muttering, "Hey." he said and took a drink from the sink.
Another man was already in the stall providing his own urine sample and we passed each other as I went in and he came out. The delightful awkwardness was palpable.
Two and a half hours later I was finally called in to see the doctor. She asked me to lie on the table so she could inspect the problem. While doing so, she asked the typical information questions of, "have you had unprotected sex in the last 6 months?", "an std?", "this problem before?".
I lay down and she begin squeezing my gentles in ways that made me squirm obviously, my fists clenched and white, "Does this hurt?"
"Yes." I breathed fiercely.
"I know it's uncomfortable, but does it hurt?"
"Yes." I said again. It was agonizing.
At the end she told me she thought I had a collection of fluid in my left and she was going to give me antibiotics and left the room.
Minutes later another doctor, a Scottish man, came in wanting to inspect. He squeezed me uncomfortably and I winced and felt nauseous. I feared I'd throw up then and there. He said there doesn't seem to be anything too bad, but it is swollen, so he gave me a ticket for an ultrasound. I could now go home.
"They were talking with another doctor outside your room," dad said, "looked like he wanted to get in there and have a look, too. The lady kept saying 'he's twenty, leave him alone' and things like that. Probably an intern wanting to learn something." I laughed and my balls hurt.

Next day, I went in to get the ultrasound out of the way. I went in and they scheduled me in for 12:30. I went and had a coffee at McCafe and read some Pride and Prejudice.
Soon, my hour of joy came and I went back to the Radiology Ward. A nice man escorted me into the room, "I'll be the operator today."
"Hi."
"Don't worry, I've done hundreds of these."
"Okay."
He scanned me, placing warming jelly on the ultrasound rod (what are those called?) and I was relieved it wasn't freezing. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better than having two different doctors squeeze my junk around in a violating fashion.
"These doctors," he said, "they squeeze your balls and ask if it hurts. Course it hurts, want me to do it to you and see if it hurts?!"
I laughed an felt at ease.
When it was over he told me there didn't seem to be anything wrong. The report would be ready in a couple of days and would be sent to emergency but could also be sent to my GP.

Though it was a false alarm and I scared myself for nothing and it was a crappy experience, glad I did it so now I know that it's nothing.

Red Dead Redemption and New Xbox 360

Ok, so I know I'm a little late in coming to Red Dead, but cut me some slack, I've been saving up and my Xbox has been broken.
This, however, was delightfully rectified when EB Games announced a deal that trading in your old 360 would give you a significant discount on the new sleek, quiet, huge HD Xbox AND a free copy of Red Dead Redemption. My ears burned and I traded in.
My oh my oh my.
First of all, the new plastic smell of the new console was almost like heaven incarnate at this point. The new Xbox, not only sporting a huge 250 GB HD (almost unnecessarily big), but is quiet as a mouse. The new power pack barely makes any noise which makes it sound less like it's going to explode than the old model did.

Alright, so, Red Dead. This game, honest to goodness, is more fun than it has any right to be. I mean, really, it's just GTA on a horse in the Wild West - but for some reason, that makes it BETTER.
The open plains of the beautifully constructed world are astounding and the little addition of people either needing your help of trying to kill you by the side of the road is a cute touch towards the reality of 19th Century West America.
Although the protagonist (hero or villain is your choice) is a fairly opinionless avatar of the stereotypical mysterious stranger with a dark past, he is still enjoyable. His a well-defined character in terms of animation, and his lack of too many opinions kind of allows you to role-play him any way you like - though that could be my Dungeons and Dragons playing twist on a less than well-written character.
The story, however, is quite enrapturing in a strange way. I mean, it's typically Rockstar Games/GTA in that you go to different people for missions whom the previous mission-giver introduces you to, but their stories are more interesting than, "I hate this mob boss, murder him for money". I like the, "I'm a creepy grave robber searching for my lost treasure, let's go find it - this will include a lot of murder and mayhem".
Speaking of murder, the fighting - especially the duel-style Dead Eye feature - is more fun. This could be because you have a foreseeable limit to your ammo and you only really carry max 4 choose-able weapons at a time - my favourite is the Winchester Repeater. It also FEELS like a Western flick, with the grungy hero who's good with a gun and enemies slumping over, falling off roofs, etc.
All in all, a shining review for this game. Mahalo.