Doctor Who Fic - The Time Thief

It was only a matter of time before I had a crack at a Doctor Who fanfic. Hope I've done a good job.

Frenck knew all about the Amulet of Araftaktik’s mysterious history. He knew full well how the priceless artefact had one day been stolen from where it had been on display, only to be discovered in a private collection two hundred years later. Frenck knew this, because he was the one who was going to steal it.

    He licked his green tinged lips with his forked tongue, watching how the golden amulet glistened in the low light from the blue moon of Arkton. He’d read about this moment in countless accounts and history books, but it was quite another thing to experience it firsthand.

     Raising the Space Time Diffusion Generator attached to his wrist, he aimed the thin barrel at the glass case housing the amulet and fired. It projected an orb of pure time energy, which when it made contact produced a perfect spherical hole in the glass. No damage had been done; rather the area inside the hole had been transported to a period of time where a glass case was not present. This allowed him to simply reach through and grab the amulet, without activating the alarms that would have been set off had he smashed it.

    “Step away from the amulet and put your hands in the air,” a voice shouted from behind him.

    ‘Right on cue,’ Frenck thought, having memorized the details of this robbery in every detail. He knew that at this point two human security guards were stood behind him. Fortunately for him, but not for them, history dictated what would happen next.

    “We have an intruder in the East Wing. Red skin, bald, reptilian skin, possibly Tiktorian,” the security guard spoke into his radio, aiming his plasma pistol directly at the intruder while at his side his colleague did the same

    Frenck simply paused, before saying in a rasping voice, “You dare threaten me? How do you presume to fight the forces of time itself?” Then, not giving the guards a chance to reply, he whirled around, and using his species superior reflexes, fired two time diffusion beams. They hit the guards square in the chest, sending them to the floor with anguished cries. Frenck casually walked over and saw to his satisfaction both men had aged quite considerably, their skin now wrinkled and their hair white as snow.

      Just as in all the history books.

    “Be grateful that I showed you mercy,” Frenck hissed at the two moaning guards. “I only aged you by twenty years. In the past I’ve aged people well over a hundred.”

      Then with a happy cackle, Frenck activated his time diffuser once again on its highest setting. This time it projected a beam of blue light that created a round portal hovering above the museum floor. It was a fold in the continuum of time and space, which when stepped through would allow him to walk from one moment in time to another. Making sure his co-ordinates were set he walked past the swiftly aged humans towards it, grasping the amulet tightly in his clawed left hand.

    He was engulfed by a flash of blue, which was expected. What was unexpected was how, instead of being transported to his single bedroom apartment on the planet Teryar IV, he emerged on the bridge of a spaceship. It was a circular room with raised glass platforms leading to different sections of the ship. The largest glass platform encircled the central console, glowing a gentle blue. It stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and a glass staircase led up to this platform. And staring down at him from the top of this staircase were three humans, two males and a female, with stunned looks on their fleshy pink faces.

    One of the males, with dark hair and a strange fabric wrapped around his neck in a bow shape, gazed at him intensely for a few seconds, before he loudly exclaimed, “And that, Pond, is why I never touch the wibbly lever.”

     Frenck was almost overwhelmed by confusion. He stepped back in order to return through the portal, only to discover it had already sealed shut. He was trapped onboard a strange ship with three humans, a species he had always regarded as the enemy. Deciding that this was the time to show aggression he barked, “Who the Flaktarn are you three?”

    “Now there’s no place for bad language on my ship, except in extreme circumstances, like when you stub your toe,” the dark haired man replied, seemingly left unfazed at the strange arrival on his ship.

     His two companions were a lot more alarmed. “Doctor I don’t understand. Who is this?” asked the woman with flame red hair.

     “Is this something to do with the time knot?” asked the man with short brown hair.

     “I’ll tell you what’s going on here!” Frenck hissed with a flicker of his forked tongue. “I’m going to summon another time dispersion portal and get myself out of here. And I suggest you don’t get in my way.” With that he fired up his time disperser and created another portal. He just had time to hear the man the girl called ‘Doctor’ shout, “No don’t,” before he jumped through. Instantly he was falling through the air, thrashing his arms and legs before landing painfully on his back. He looked up at the ceiling to realise it was the same ceiling as before.

      “Well if you listened to me then you’d have learnt that we can’t just warp our way out of this situation,” the Doctor explained, as his two companions helped Frenck to his feet. “We’ve ended up in a time knot. A part of the Time Vortex congested from the pressure of numerous timestreams pouring into a singularity.”

     “Meaning what exactly?” the brown haired man asked.

     “Well Rory, imagine a river filled with rubber ducks from every period of history. But there’s been a blockage and those poor ducks have nowhere to go. It’s up to us to clear the blockage and let those duckies float free.”

    “What’s your obsession with rubber ducks?” asked Rory.

    “Great companions. One’s never alone when they have a rubber duck,” the Doctor announced.

    Frenck snorted, his purple eyes fixed on the Doctor. “Has anyone ever mentioned you talk utter rubbish.”

    “Quite frequently. And sorry I didn’t catch your name?”

    “Frenck.”

    “If you’d allow me to guess, it’s Frenck of Tiktorians, resident of the planet Teyrar IV. I’m the Doctor, and this is Amy and Rory. Now I want to do something extremely clever and free us all from this situation, but to do that I need to know exactly how you ended up onboard my TARDIS?”

     “As if your miniature human excuse for a brain could begin to understand the complexities of time travel,” Frenck scoffed, showering the TARDIS console with his purple coloured spittle.

    “Well funny thing is...” Amy began, before this Doctor interrupted her with a wave of his hand.

      “...Is that I’ve dabbled a bit in time travel in the past, or future, I forget which is which sometimes. But I‘m clearly not as experienced as you. I don’t suppose you could fill in any gaps in my knowledge?”

     Frenck was sorely tempted to just blast this Doctor and his crew there and then, but the opportunity to show off his knowledge proved irresistible. Why not humour the ignorant humans for a few minutes more? He held up the golden amulet in his hand, and waggled it to ensure they noticed it. “Anyone recognise this?” he bragged.

      The Doctor seemed to recognise it instantly, but tried to hide it. “Well this archaeologist friend of ours once told me about a relic that looked just like that. The Amulet of Araftaktik I think it was.”

     “So you must be aware of how it disappeared for two hundred years,” Frenck hissed, building to a crescendo. “But what if I were to tell you that in reality, it was only ever stolen for a matter of minutes?”

     There was a pause inside the ship, broken by Rory asking, “You mean you stole it?”

     “Indeed,” Frenck bragged. “I stole it just moments ago, and in a few moments more I will have taken it to the future where I can pocket the reward money for recovering it. So you see, I’m just ensuring that history follows the correct course.”

   “Wow, how can my poor little human brain take this?” Amy remarked, sounding very sarcastic.

    “Time doesn’t work like that,” the Doctor said, suddenly sounding a lot sterner.

    “Oh but it does Doctor,” Frenck exclaimed, his gaze flickering from human to human as he assessed what was the best course of action to take next. “This isn’t the first crime I have committed. Throughout history there are countless accounts of thefts and robberies that fit my MO. Once I’ve uncovered one, it’s simply a case of using my time disperser to travel to that time period, and then ensure time runs as planned.”

      “And you’re telling us all this because...?” Rory asked.

     Frenck gave a happy laugh. “So you understand what will happen to you if you get in my way.” Then he made his move. Darting forward he used his superior speed and agility to grab Amy by her waist. He hauled her into his body with her back to him, and before she could begin to struggle or put up a fight he pressed the barrel of his time disperser into her neck.

    Both the Doctor and Rory leapt to Amy’s defence, but dared not move an inch closer once he had pulled his weapon on her. “Let her go now!” Rory bellowed, appearing desperate to save her.

    “Oh fond of this female are we?” Frenck sneered, trying not to gag on the stench of whatever scent this girl had plastered herself in. “Pretty is she? I couldn’t tell; you all look like pink bags of flesh to me. Still, I wonder what she would look like if I were to age her by a couple of decades?”

     “Trust me, you don’t want to do this,” the Doctor warned.

    “Don’t I?” Frenck hissed over the sound of Amy’s panicked breathing. “See, what I want is to get off this ship and back to my own timestream. And you’d better find me a way home soon or my trigger finger might get itchy.”

    “Time travel isn’t simply a case of entering a destination on a sat nav,” the Doctor insisted. “Besides, our biggest problem is escaping this time knot, because otherwise we’ll be stuck here in this single moment for all eternity.”

    Frenck shrugged nonchalantly. “Better get cracking then.”

    The Doctor stared at him, and Frenck eyeballed him back. For a second he thought the neckbow wearing human wasn’t going to back down. But after a few agonising seconds the Doctor began fiddling with the circular control console of his ship, looking for a way out of this situation.

    “So how do we get out of a time knot?” asked Rory, one eye on the doctor and the other on Frenck and his hostage.

    “We have to pull the plug,” replied the Doctor as if it were most natural answer in the world. When he became aware of three pairs of eyes staring blankly at him he elaborated, “Often timeknots are caused by the changing of events so momentous that time has difficulty in catching up.”

    “Well what caused it then?”

    “It could be anything Rory. Britain losing the battle of Waterloo, dinosaurs appearing in Stoke on Trent...” The Doctor trailed off as he took a good long look at the amulet which Frenck continued to hold incredibly tightly. “Or it could be the disappearance of a piece of jewellery regarded as a religious icon by the Araftaktikian Empire, which in turn led to a wave of persecution and bloodshed across five galaxies as the Empire sought to reclaim it.”

     “So you do know of the amulet’s history,” Frenck remarked.

     “I know that by stealing it you will have set off a chain of events resulting in the deaths of countless innocent people,” the Doctor explained coldly. “And the worst part is that you knew that as well, and yet you stole it anyway.”

     “It was always meant to be that way,” Frenck snarled.

     “Does it honestly look that way to you? Time is rushing to catch up with your actions and we’ve got caught in the middle. You weren’t drawn into the TARDIS, the TARDIS was drawn to what you stole. The Amulet of Araftaktik is the plug blocking the flow of time, and until we return it to its proper timewindow we’ll remain stuck here.”

      “You’re wrong Doctor,” Frenck spat, angered by how this mad human was daring to challenge him. “Time follows rules that can be exploited. I am the time thief, and its laws are mine to command.”

    “Yeah, well command this,” Amy barked, giving him a powerful kick to his shin. Frenck exhaled loudly from her surprise attack, and dropped his guard enough for her to break free and wrestle the amulet from his hand. She ran forward while Frenck, snarling with rage, aimed at her with his time disperser. But the Doctor pushed her out the way at the same moment that he fired, the blue orb of time energy hitting him square in the chest. He gave a pained cry as the force of the impact pushed him onto his back.

    “Doctor!” Amy cried, as she and Rory ran over to his inert form. But before they could reach him, Frenck grabbed them both by their necks, throwing them back against the railing surrounding the ship’s console. Winded, both humans gasped for air as they slunk to the floor, while Frenck stood over them changing the settings on his time disperser.

     “Consider your Doctor the lucky one. I only aged him by twenty years,” Frenck remarked with an air of triumph. Then, with the barrel of his weapon pointed towards Rory, he told Amy, “Now if you don’t want to see what your friend looks like when aged by two hundred years, I suggest you hand over the amulet.”

    But before either of them could make a move, an arm suddenly wrapped itself around Frenck’s neck. “Nice trick, but best not to use it on species with a long lifespan,” the Doctor said in his ear, his appearance unchanged by Frenck’s attack.

      Frenck concentrated so hard on trying to wrench the Doctor’s arm that he only saw the metal stick with a green light at the tip when it was too late. The Doctor pressed it against the time disperser causing it to spark and fizz wildly. Frenck howled as these sparks burnt his red, scaly skin, and with a surge of strength he threw the Doctor away from his back. He whirled around to face this interfering human, with the intent on blasting him with the highest setting his time disperser could be set to.

    But the Doctor’s attack had irreparably damaged it, and when Frenck fired he instead was engulfed by a fierce blue light. Dazzled by the brightness and surrounded by silence, he watched as the Doctor, Amy, Rory and the ship’s interior all phased into the shining light. He felt like he was falling through an endless void, down and down and down.

    He landed on his back with another loud thump. Growling in frustration Frenck hauled himself to his feet, and the first thing he saw was a window covered by iron bars, outside of which a fearsome storm raged. He whirled about and saw he had materialised in a prison cell, with thick bars keeping him trapped inside. Feeling sick to his stomach, he realised he’d been transported to the Stormcage. Panicking slightly, he tried reactivating his time diffuser, but it wouldn’t even beep. It was completely dead.

    Frenck froze when he heard footsteps echoing down the stone-walled corridor outside his cell. He poked his head through the bars and saw a human soldier on patrol, whose slow paced march changed into a run when he saw the alien inhabiting a previously empty cell. “Pssst, can you help me human, I’m not supposed to be here. I believe there’s been some kind of mistake,” Frenck asked politely.            

      The human stared at him inquisitively, before activating the list of inmates attached to a communicator strapped to his wrist. Then, with a satisfied smile creeping across the guard’s face he replied, “Actually, Frenck of the Tiktorians, you’re just in time for your trial when it begins in five hours.”

     “What does that mean?” Frenck roared, sounding flabbergasted.

     “The Doctor said you’d turn up round about now. He said he rewired your time diffuser to transport you to this exact position and time. He’s provided enough evidence for us to prosecute you for your crimes.”

    “But, but this is impossible!” Frenck bellowed, rattling the bars of his cell. “I’m the time thief, the laws of time bend to my will. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

    The guard simply shrugged, before withdrawing a crumpled letter from his back pocket. “He left you this. Said it would explain everything,” he explained casually.

     Frenck eyeballed the guard angrily for a few seconds, before snatching it from his hands. He violently ripped it open with his clawed fingers, and from the envelope pulled a newspaper cutting. The headline read, “Amulet of Araftaktik mysteriously reappears after a two day disappearance.”

    And attached to this article was a green post it note, on which was scrawled in very untidy handwriting, “Time can be rewritten :)”

Zelda's Top Ten

Mr Postman came with a very special package today. My copy of Zelda Skyward Sword, in all its finery. So far so good, even though Zelda games seem to be taking longer and longer to get going with each instalment. Whatever happened to the good old days where you were bashing your way through the first dungeon in a matter of minutes? Still nice to see the game offer up some degree of challenge; the first boss actually killed me once.

   Anyway to celebrate the return of my favourite gaming series, I’m going to indulge in a bit of nostalgia, and list the ten things that make Zelda, to me, a truly unique and celebrated series.

1 Hyrule

The land where Zelda is predominantly based is one of the most unique fantasy settings devised in the modern era. It is a fascinating world that, due of course to the way the game is designed, veers from open plain to arid mountains and then dense forest in only a short walk. Yet you never quite know what you are going to get each time you step out into Hyrule field for the first time. Due to how the landscape is shifted about for each title, the land often feels just as fresh as it did in the previous game.

2 All Creatures Great And Small

It is so easy for fantasy titles to fall back on the standard Tolkien-esque races when trying to fill their expansive setting. It is a credit to Nintendo’s dedication, and indeed their imagination, that they have filled Hyrule with original creatures of their own devising. What Zelda title would be complete without the Gorons or the Zoras? And the number of inhabitants increases with each title, as Nintendo strive to fill the land with as much life as possible.

3 Dungeon Keeping

Everyone has their own preferences when it comes to what they want from Zelda. It is often why the fans are so divided over which game they consider the best. For me the games never quite get going until you reach your first dungeon. Often they start gloomy and enclosed, more often than not in some form of hidden forest temple, but by the end of each title you will have been subjected to a dazzling array of locations, dangers and set pieces provided by each dungeon you clear. And there are no shortcuts. You have to progress as planned, and not once has anyone ever been able to cheat the system.

4 Bosses

This is where Zelda often shines. Finishing off each dungeon with an encounter against a screen sized monster intent on pummelling you into a green tunic wearing pate. Often defeating said beastie will rely on you exploiting their weakspot using the weapon you acquired earlier in the dungeon. Which begs the question, why do bad guys leave amazing pieces of weaponry just lying about in chests? Of course it would be hard to pick a favourite, but stand outs include thwacking the great dragon Volvagia on the head with a massive hammer, turning supersize to deal with the giant insects Twinmold, and careering into the skeletal spine of Stallord on your spinning disc of doom.

5 You Against The World

Rarely do games ever make you feel like a true hero. Where you get the impression that if it wasn’t for you then the whole universe you see on your screen would wither and die. Zelda games always manage to do this. You move from one town to the next, rescuing princesses, slicing up monsters and participating in massive trading sequences, all for the simple reason that if you don’t, no-one else will. There are no NPC’s covering your back, no-one else you can designate a task to. If you fail, it’s all your fault, which makes the sense of achievement all the more potent upon completing a difficult task.

6 The Music

How many iconic themes does this series have again? At least five by now. And that’s not forgetting the countless pieces of music etched into the minds of gamers forever. Gerudo Valley, the Forest Temple, Zelda’s Lullaby, the Song of Storms, Dragon Roost Island, The Dark World, The Hidden Village, and all those overworld themes. It’s a musical feast that sets an incredibly high standard for other series to follow. And Nintendo’s bundling in of the orchestrated soundtrack CD with Skyward Sword was a truly fantastic gift.

7 Three Characters Of Destiny

The trifecta of Link, Zelda and Ganondorf has been the bedrock of the series stories from the beginning. It’s a relationship built on strong fantasy foundations, the young man who grows to become a hero; the young woman destined to rule and constantly targeted by evil because of this, and the power hungry sorcerer desperate to rule by any means necessary. Their relationship is a highly flexible one, with Zelda and Ganondorf often making way for new allies or villains, but without the history between these three characters there would be no legend to tell.

8 Combat

It’s astonishing how far combat in Zelda games has come. From the shield block/sword/shield block/sword of Ocarina of Time we now have a Zelda where combat takes centre stage. Where you actively have to think about how you deal with each enemy as opposed to simply swiping away wildly. Moreover you now find yourself swamped by several enemies at once as opposed to them attacking you one at a time. But it is worth noting that the style of combat in each Zelda is subject to the time of release and the technology it was released on. But it is only now that you truly begin to believe that Link is the master swordsman he is supposed to be.

9 The Many Faces Of Link

The one thing you can’t say about Zelda is that, while the gameplay basically remains unchanged, Nintendo really can’t be accused of not trying new things with the graphics. Each time a new mainline Zelda is released, it comes with the lick of paint applied by a graphical overhaul. Wheeling from the uber cartoony Wind Waker, to the semi-realistic Twilight Princess, and then to Skyward Sword which is a mixture of the two. In a period where realism seems to be a default graphical trend, it is great to see Zelda keep on experimenting, even if it does keep peeing fans off on the odd occasion.

10 Birth Of A Hero

Above all else Zelda sticks to its roots. A modern fairytale reminding us of the pains of growing up and facing the dangers life throws at you. Naturally not everyone in the world will grow up facing goblins and lizardmen (unless they work in banking), but the parable behind it remains strong. Zelda is, and always will be, a coming of age story, teaching us to have the courage to face our troubles down. Pretty strong stuff considering it came from the dayreams of a young boy pretending to be a swordsman, but what an imagination he had.   

Batman Arkham City - Review

Batman stands out among most other superheroes for one simple reason. He isn’t one. There’s no radioactive animal bite, or dip in a bath of chemicals, or abandoned alien child left on earth in his past. He’s simply a pissed off billionaire haunted by the murder of his parents, obsessed with dealing the justice they never got. He does not rely on superpowers, but on his wits, his naturally acquired physical prowess, and his ability to intimidate by making himself seem more powerful than he actually is. These combine to make him a symbol of hope in a city of lawlessness, and to take on criminals much more powerful and dangerous than he.

     Which is why it is perhaps puzzling that it took until 2009’s Batman Arkham Asylum for him to star in a truly brilliant videogame. Sneaking around, picking off victims one by one before an almighty brawl where you are totally outnumbered are scenes very much associated with video gaming as well as Batman. The game’s excellent freeflow combat system, combined with fantastic set pieces where you pick off heavily armed goons one by one, and a fantastic cast of Batman villains with unique takes on their classic designs, almost effortlessly came together into what was surprisingly one of the best games of that year. You felt exhilaration sneaking up on a goon from behind, and breathless as you traded punches with one muscled henchman to the next. Ultimately, you felt like the goddamn Batman!

    So the second Batman game from developers Rocksteady, entitled Arkham City, was hailed with both great enthusiasm and curiosity, as people wondered where exactly they could go from there. The answer was into the streets of Gotham itself...in a manner of speaking.

   Batman’s home town has always been a mixture of dark gothic architecture from the past, mixed in with a decayed and sordid vision of the future. Arkham Asylum nailed the gothic quota in spades, so naturally Arkham City leans more to the decayed end of the spectrum. The heavily walled super prison in which Batman finds himself imprisoned is fully utilised by Rocksteady, and is filled with buildings and references to places famous in Batman lore. For example, the game begins with an incarcerated Bruce Wayne climbing the Ace Chemicals building, where a long time ago a small time crook fell into a vat of chemicals before re-emerging as the hero’s arch enemy.

     This very much sets the tone for a game filled with references and nods to the hero’s rich history. The cast roster is filled with allies of Batman helping him bring peace to Gotham, but their number pales in comparison to the number of villains he must face. Given the eclectic assortment of wrongdoers is another reason for the dark knight’s popularity, it is perhaps natural that Rocksteady saw fit to cram in as many as they possibly could without making the disc ten inches thick.

      While undoubtedly fan pleasing, it comes at a price. Arkham Asylum excelled by focusing on a hand-picked few villains with the Joker as ringleader. With so many villains jostling for your attention many are reduced to mere cameo appearances, some don’t get the screen time they should and others struggle to fit in. And Hugo Strange doesn’t really fulfil the role of big baddie as effectively as Joker did in the first game, and once again the clown prince of crime is the star of the show in the parts where he does appear.

    This doesn’t detract from what is otherwise a very cohesive and dark story that truly befits the main hero. Moreover it is encouraging to see Rocksteady taking creative risks with the property, unafraid to kill off characters that have been big players in the universe for years to fit the story they want to tell. And while death rarely lasts forever in superhero fiction, it is nice to see a bold approach that sets this game apart from the official continuity, similar to Christopher Nolan in his Dark Knight films.

    This is not the only reason the game zips along at a lightning pace. You Kapow, Biff and Thwack your way from massive set piece to another, one moment clearing a room of goons, the next swinging from rafters as you avoid the gazes of henchmen armed to the teeth with rifles and grenades. There is a lot more variety in the enemies that you face, and even the common yobbo’s change their outfits depending on which supervillain they pledge their allegiance to.

    Combat in the first game was so fluid that Rocksteady could have easily just rested on their laurels. But to their absolute credit they have ladened Batman with even more moves to enhance the experience further. Gadgets can be thrown into combos a lot easier, and a fresh set of melee attacks breaks up the sometimes monotonous task of dislocating one shoulder after the other. The stealth sections too see a wealth of new options for picking off baddies one at a time. This increases your flexibility and presents you with plenty of backside kicking options. No longer is there only one way of taking an enemy down, now there are several. And each fresh technique has their use as enemies continually get wise to your tactics and bring gadgets of their own to the party.

    These lead up to the boss fights, a disappointing feature of the first game. Not because of their lack of ambition, rather because of how they revolved around simply stunning each villain with a batarang before leaping in for the kill. Rocksteady have listened to the critics, and the bosses this time require a mix of techniques and gadgets to bring them down. Batman’s more physically imposing foes are saved for such occasions, and often appear just when you least expect them. The final battle, without spoiling too much, is a really unexpected affair, leaving you wondering afterwards whether you have actually defeated the last boss or not. Often it is harder to tell when a game is about to finish, as opposed to a book or film where you know when you are about to reach the climax. Yet it is worth noting just how effectively Arkham City builds to a climax without you realising until it is almost too late.

    The main game is a decent length in its own right, but the countless unlockables and side missions mean there is a huge amount to do even once the story is over. Riddler trophies are back, this time serving a decent story telling purpose as opposed to just being there to irritate you. Finding them all will take some patience, as much down to their number as to their trickiness, but the rewards of extra missions and back story segments make it worth it. Throw in a number of side missions featuring lesser known characters and villains, and the chance to play a more difficult version of the game with all your gadgets and moves in place upon first completion, and you have a package well worth the full retail price. And that’s not mentioning the Catwoman missions/DLC, which offer a welcome distraction despite the inconsistent timings in between appearances. The chance to experiment on goons with a unique character to Batman is a sign of where the future of this franchise may reside.

    But for now, we have a sequel that well and truly stands shoulder to shoulder with its predecessor. It is a fantastic fusion of what made the first game so powerful, and shining example of what happens when a developer builds these foundations with one ear to their fans wishes. Arkham City is very recognisably the offspring of Arkham Asylum, yet with its setting and fresh approach to combat it sometimes feels totally different. This is no bad thing, and helps to refine a gem that was already well cut in the first place. Ultimately, whether you prefer this over the first game will depend on what preference you have for Batman as a hero. Do you prefer him skulking through shadowy gothic belfries to save the day, or swooping down from a building top into a decrepit alleyway to save the day? Both have their place, and both are undoubtedly, and unashamedly, Batman. And it is to Rocksteady’s credit how well they have realised this.         

Mr Honeybunch

Here's a very short story I whipped out in an hour just now, as a sort of writing exercise. Please enjoy!

Barry greedily licked his lips as the bag slowly made its way around the luggage claim conveyor belt. So far so good. He’d made it past customs and immigration without being arrested or questioned. Now all he had to do was amble through the nothing to declare zone, and he would be set for life. All that remained was for him to reclaim his luggage.

    “Mummy, mummy, there it is, there’s our bag!” he heard a young girl squeal just seconds before she ran into him with the baggage trolley. He grunted in pain as the metal frame collided with the back of his calf, almost knocking him to the floor.

    “Will you calm down Heaven!” her mum ordered in an almost pleading tone. Turning to Barry the suntanned middle aged woman said, “I’m so, so sorry.”

    “It’s alright,” Barry smiled while trying to not to wince. “I know how much of a handful kids can be.”

    “Oh they always pick the right moments to go hyper. She’s just excited because I promised she could pull the bag off the conveyor belt.”

    “It’s alright mum I already got it,” said an older boy, presumably the lady’s son.

   “Nooooooo Damien it was my turn!” Heaven whined.

    “Shut up Heaven it doesn’t matter!” Damien moaned.

    “Pack it in the pair of you!” their mum hissed. After one last look at Barry she tried pulling the trolley away, until her kids commenced a battle to see who could put their bag on it first.

   Barry returned his gaze to the conveyor and saw his dark blue holdall had almost reached him. He grasped the handles and with an expertly timed tug lifted it off. Wasting no time he made his way to the exit. He passed no more than three security guards and two immigration officials, but none of them stopped him. Soon he was passing by taxi drivers with names on cardboard and gaggles of jumping, waving families. He had done it. He was free.

    His head still spinning from what he had achieved, the airport terminal seemed to whiz past as he walked to the pick-up point. But he was immediately brought back to earth when he saw the jet black land rover parked down to the right. Clasping the holdall tighter than anything he had ever held, he ran over, opened the door and slid into the back seat. The car was pulling away before he even had chance to put on his seatbelt.

   “Well done mate!” said notorious east end gangster Lionel Smart from the front seat, his gold covered teeth on display as a result of how much he was grinning. “Well bloody done. And those mugs said it was impossible.”

   “Nah, it was like taking candy from a baby. I was just worried it wouldn’t get on the plane. Can’t believe the X-rays didn’t pick it up.”

    “Simply a case of slipping a backhand to some check in clerks at the other end,” Lionel cackled, rubbing his tattooed hands. “Come on, let’s have a gander!” Barry couldn’t stop smiling as he unzipped the holdall, not wanting to keep his boss waiting any longer.

    But when the first thing he saw was a teddy bear with a heart shaped nose, he secretly wished he’d kept the bag shut.

   “Where’s My Honeybunch?” Heaven demanded, stamping her feet and pouting angrily.

    “In my blue holdall right at the top! Now grab your toy and leave me in peace!” her mum ordered, delicately cradling her cup of tea. Immediately looking brighter, Heaven skipped out the room leaving her mum in the company of Auntie Babs.

    “They didn’t drive you too mad on the trip did they Cathy?” Auntie Babs laughed, over the sound of Damien’s heavy rock music forcing its way through the ceiling.

    With a stressed sounding sigh Cathy replied, “I don’t know what to do with them. You know she almost crippled some bloke at the airport with a trolley. Anyway they’re off for a holiday with their dad next week. Going to the Greek islands apparently, probably out of all the money he should be paying me in child support.”

    “Well seems you missed all sorts of excitement. You know there was a massive bank robbery in Madrid just before you left?”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah, over five million pounds worth of diamonds stolen by armed gunmen, hostages taken and everything. Radio says there’s a ten thousand euro reward for any information leading to their recovery.”

    “Oh well a girl can dream eh?”

     “Mummy I still can’t find Mr Honeybunch!” Heaven wailed while stomping downstairs.

    “For goodness sake Heaven. I said he’s at the top of my bag,” Cathy sighed in exasperation, as a toyless Heaven burst in through the kitchen door holding a small velvet bag.

     “But I checked the top of your bag mummy! All I found was this bag of shiny stones.” Heaven outstretched her arm to show off her latest find, but was clutching the bag at the bottom, allowing the hundreds of tiny diamonds to fall out and scatter over the tiled kitchen floor.

   Heaven looked at the mess, then looked at the stunned faces of her mum and auntie, and then said nervously, “Sorry mummy.”

Copyright Michael Foster 2012

The Sarah Jane Adventures

Despite my own particular vice of being a massive Whovian, I've only ever dipped into it's spin off show, The Sarah Jane Adventures, on occasions. Obviously, this is largely down to it being a show aimed at a much younger audience, so my viewing experience has been limited to those episodes where the Doctor makes an appearance, or random episodes I've watched on Iplayer at three in the morning when I couldn't sleep. But following the untimely death of Elizabeth Sladen, I felt almost honour bound to watch the final episode of the show.

But of course, this was the finale that was never meant to be a finale. It was originally meant to be a mid series story, focusing on character development between Sarah Jane, her adopted son Luke and the newest addition to her family, Sky. As a result, the 'dark days ahead' promised in the series first episode never materialise, and you are left with the gnawing feeling of what might have been had the series been completed. The introduction of Sky was obviously an attempt to infuse the show with fresh blood, but her character is doomed to never have her story fully explored.

But 'The Man Who Never Was' is a suiting finale in many other ways. It serves as a showcase for the core theme of the show, the family Sarah Jane never thought she'd never have. Luke as the son she'd always wanted, who now has to adapt to having a younger sister equally as alien as he once was. And then there's Clyde and Rani, affectionately (and somewhat knowingly) titled 'Clani' by Luke, who have accompanied Sarah Jane on every adventure and been her most loyal supporters. They had begun to forge their own paths and identies within the series, and this episode was no different, tackling the menace from a seperate angle, with plenty of references to an ever growing romantic interest in each other that will also now never come to fruition.
    

    The menace was not aliens wanting to take over the world, but instead a money grabbing arch capitalist using alien slaves to operate a holographic hypno Bill Gates equivilent. A nice switch from the usual Sarah Jane and kids vs the universe angle. It results in a much more emotional and personal story, one that allows fledgling relationships to blossom and old relationships to strengthen. The special effects are impressive for a childrens show, again showing how the show has developed in terms of the funding and exposure it has recieved. What started as a spin off aimed at kids has very much become its own show, and the way audiences have recieved it is reflected within the show itself.

    Overall, it is a shame the show had to end so abruptly, just as it was gearing up for another busy series. But a moving montage at the end depicting all of Sarah Jane's achievements serves as a reminder that it is not an end in the strictest sense. Within the universe her adventures will continue, with her extended family in tow, and together they will continue to defend the Earth in the hearts of fans. Much like how Doctor Who was not forgotten by its tenacious fanbase when the show first ended, neither will they forget Sarah Janes Smith. 

Thoughts on 'Eragon'

A couple of months back I was searching for reading material aimed at the children and young adult market, in an attempt to better understand the market I hope to break into with Zack and The Renegades. When I was at the cinema watching Harry Potter, of all things, I saw a billboard advertising the last book in the Eragon saga, being released later this year. Intrigued, I brought up the book with my friend Shere, who immediately revealed she was a big fan and couldn’t wait to see how it would all end. The books having passed me by when they were first popular, and having heard such a glowing endorsement, I bought the first book in the series, ‘Eragon,’ and hunkered down for a good read.

                                  

   My initial thoughts, and I suppose of a good many others, was that of Tolkien and Middle Earth. The first thing you see is a map, a staple of pretty much all fantasy fiction, but it is the most read page of the book by far as you constantly refer back to it as you are bombarded by place names left and right. The world of Alagaesia is clearly based on the much loved universe created by Tolkien, with Elves and Dwarves in abundance and slotting straight into their traditional roles. You also get the impression, through tales of the lands ancient history, that it is a world that has well passed its golden era, again similar to Middle Earth.

   But comparisons to Lord of the Rings et al are quickly dispelled by a fast paced prologue where we are introduced to the chief antagonist of this book and the series’ orc equivalents, the Urgals. You are instantly thrust into the action in a way that is absent from Tolkien’s introductions, and reels the reader in with mystery from the off. When the book settles down, and protagonist Eragon is introduced, we are drawn into a world that is a far cry from the rosy and quaint location of the Shire. Eragon’s hometown Carvahall, while peaceful and beautiful, is not a jovial slice of old England. Times are hard here, and people are suffering at the hands of Evil Empire no. 234B.

    Eragon is a strange protagonist. He’s very likeable, undoubtedly courageous with the determination to go with it. Just the sort of character a fantasy book like this needs. He’s very hard to find fault with, which is perhaps part of the problem. In many instances he is almost too perfect, lacking any faults that hinder his progress throughout the story. You could say his youthful impatience, and his desire to always risk doing the right thing no matter what the odds, are his Achilles heels, but they never seem to hold him back or truly put him at risk. But perhaps I am doing him a disservice. As I said he’s a very likeable hero, and you want to see him succeed.

    The star of the show undoubtedly is his dragon Saphira. She’s a powerful and independent female that doesn’t take shit from anyone, Eragon, friends and foes alike. Witnessing her transformation from tiny hatchling into a powerhouse capable of fending off entire armies is joyous. As is her relationship with Eragon, where there is real and heartfelt affection between the two characters. Other supporting characters slot into traditional roles, Brom the storyteller come sorcerer come teacher, Roran the family member left behind and Murtagh the young warrior with a mysterious past. They all fit into their roles well, and the author isn’t averse to killing characters off when you least expect it.

                              

    Much has been made of the authors vivid imagination in creating such a compelling universe in which his characters reside. But at the beginning the world seems slightly dulled. Towns and landscapes are passed by with barely a mention, and the lands they travel through are not all that unique when compared to other fantasy books. It’s not until later on in the book, when we come across vast deserts, mountain ranges reaching into the sky and underground cities constructed out of gemstones, that your imagination goes into overdrive.

    Despite the books imposing size for a story aimed at children, you really rifle through the pages. Paolini’s world may not be all that original, or his heroes all that unique, but you care enough for the characters that you want to find out where their adventure will take them next. Moreover it is quite unpredictable, and you aren’t often able to second guess the story, keeping you gripped as you charge from chapter to chapter.

    The authors writing style is far from cohesive, and you are often bombarded with lengthy dialogue and overcomplicated explanations of races, magic and history lessons. Moreover you are often whisked from place to place in a matter of paragraphs, sometimes skewing the books pacing. But his ability to paint vivid images and construct a vibrant fantasy world is exceptional, particularly when you consider how young he was when the book was written. The action scenes are also well done, not overtly complicated and clearly presented, but putting you right in the thick of the action.

     Comparisons to Tolkien are perhaps inevitable when you consider how much Paolini has obviously been influenced by his stories and those of other fantasy writers, and in Eragon there is nothing drastically unique. Yet it is his imaginative take on the old conventions of fantasy fiction that makes Eragon stand apart, and as a method of losing yourself in an old fashioned adventure yarn it’s hard to fault. But perhaps his greatest achievement is remembering that fantasy works best when the child and adult worlds are blurred into one. Too often fantasy books are aimed purely at the adult market, catering to an ever diminishing niche. Paolini has reopened this genre to a fresh generation with tales that are accessible, but disguise a hidden level of complexity underneath a story that is exciting and imaginative. I look very much forward to reading ‘Eldest’ the second book in the series, and seeing where Eragon’s adventures will take him next.         

The Postcard

I recently had my first ever story published in the anthology 'Home Tommorrow.' It consists of short stories no more than 500 words in length, and must relate to the title in some way. I devised a short tale about an elderly woman living on her own, partly inspired by a real life experience from my uncle's mother.

Please read and enjoy.

“I won’t be in next week. I’m going home tomorrow.”

    That was what Barry had said a month ago. Julie hadn’t thought much of his comment at the time. Now she couldn’t get it out of her head.

    Warming her hands on her cup of coffee she stared out the rain soaked kitchen window at her garden. The grass was long and weeds were cropping up in the flowerbed. At eighty one she was too old to maintain it herself. That was why three years ago she had employed a self employed gardener named Barry Jones.

    She took a seat at her rickety kitchen table. The house was quiet and had been since the death of her husband eight years ago. Her two sons never visited and she had very few friends. It was why she looked forward to Barry’s visits once a week. After finishing work he would come in for a cup of tea and tell stories from his exciting life. He had never stayed in one place for long, joining the army aged sixteen, leaving it ten years later to travel the world on a cruise ship, then returning to make his money gardening when he had been made redundant.

     She grabbed the newspaper lying on the tabletop. It was five days old and she had read it cover to cover, but she could only venture to the newsagents for a new one when the weather was fine and with the aid of two walking sticks. She would have to go out at some point though as she was running out of food. If Barry was still here he would have bought some supplies for her.

    Given his past she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised when he had disappeared. But the way he had completely vanished unnerved her. He didn’t call her and her phone didn’t even connect when she tried to call him. When she had visited his house two weeks ago she found it empty and abandoned. When her son had called her last week she had asked him to check Barry’s website and he found it had been taken down. After saying he was going home, Barry had disappeared from the face of the earth.

     She sighed and closed the crumpled newspaper, before slumping into her seat and listening to the rain beating against the window. She wondered what she could do today. She could barely face another day in front of the television watching Cash in the Attic, but there wasn’t much else for her to do.

     She heard the sound of the letterbox opening and shutting, and she slowly hoisted herself out of her seat and used her walking stick to shuffle to the hallway. Only one letter was waiting for her on the mat, a postcard depicting a Cornish fishing village. She recognised the handwriting immediately, and her spirits lifting she start reading. The message began “Dear Julie, I’m home now...”

Copyright Michael Foster 2012