Kevin L. O'Brien's Blog: Songs of the Seanchaí, page 19

Playing With Tropes

Since Tropes Are Tools, it's possible to manipulate, or "play" with them to control an audience's expectations and reactions. The most important thing to keep in mind when using tropes is that They Are Flexible .

There is a common belief that, unless a trope is being manipulated in a specific ways, it must adhere to a rigid, often literal definition. For example, if a character is a Gentleman Thief , he must be a cultured, suave, polite, well-educated aristocrat who is a thief that steals for fun. He cannot be simply high-class or rich, he cannot pretend to be a gentleman, he cannot be a conman or forger, and he absolutely cannot steal for money.

And yet, examples of these other kinds of "gentlemen thieves" -- including a few rare Distaff Counterparts! -- abound in various types of media.

This underscores the fact that this is the source of originality when it comes to using tropes. Two stories can both have Gentleman Thieves, but as long as they are different from each other, and all other Gentleman Thieves, they can still be counted as original stories.

The point is that all tropes have room for variation, both in their presentation and the way they are applied to a story. The only rigidity any trope possesses is that it cannot also be another trope. No matter how similar two tropes appear, or how much they might overlap, they must be completely separate.

Aside from natural variation, however, there are standard ways of playing with tropes. These are listed below, but it may help to understand them if I use examples, so more or less at random I have chosen the Warrior Poet trope. This is defined as a fighter who is also skilled in philosophy and/or art, and who applies it to combat.

So, without further verbiage:

Straight -- a trope is used in a normal fashion
***** During the Gulf War, Suzi, an infantry soldier, keeps a diary of her combat experience. After the war, she publishes it as her memoirs. (Combat influences her writing.)

Exaggerated -- a trope is used in an extreme fashion
***** Suzi publishes a military fantasy super-trilogy of nine volumes inspired by her combat experience.


Downplayed -- a trope is used in a minimalistic fashion
***** Suzi publishes a dry analysis of her combat experience as an article in Stars and Stripes.

Justified -- a reason is given in the story for using the trope
***** Suzi can only cope with the horror of war by writing about it.

Inverted -- a trope is used in a reverse fashion
***** Suzi discovers that the military flash fiction she writes in her diary while off duty accurately predicts what will happen in battle the next day. (Her writing influences combat.)

Subverted -- a trope is set up but does not occur
***** Suzi publishes a novel based on her missions as an elite black-ops agent working behind enemy lines, but she actually spent the war peeling potatoes.

Double Subverted -- a trope is subverted twice so it does occur after all
***** But when Suzi is kidnapped by guerrillas and taken behind enemy lines to be a sex slave, she kills her captors, sabotages an enemy installation, and collects valuable intelligence as she escapes back to her base, resulting in an even better novel.

Played for Laughs -- a trope is played straight but in humorous fashion
***** Suzi loses her diary. It's found by enemy soldiers, who after reading it write fan fiction of her combat exploits, making her into a Distaff Rambo.

Parodied -- a trope is used in a silly fashion
***** Suzi writes dirty combat limericks to get laid.

Averted -- a trope is expected but not used
***** Suzi's diary contains nothing but descriptions of desert flowers and landscapes.

Lampshaded -- a trope is played straight but a character in the story points it out
***** "Hey! I got a copy of Suzi's diary entry of her spy mission as a tavern dancer!"

Invoked -- a genre-savy character in the story tries to make a trope happen
***** The base doctor encourages Suzi to keep a diary, believing it will be therapeutic.

Defied -- a genre-savy character recognizes a trope could occur and tries to prevent it
***** Suzi's roommate encourages her to refuse to keep a diary, since she believes the whole idea of therapeutic writing is nonsense.

Exploited -- a genre-savy character recognizes a trope could occur or is occurring, and takes advantage of it
***** Suzi's commanding officer wants to be a literary agent after the war, and believes her diary would be a bestseller.

Discussed -- a genre-savy character mentions a trope that could occur under present circumstances
***** "You know, it's pretty much inevitable one of us will keep some kind of diary to keep from cracking up."

Conversed -- a genre-savy character mentions likely tropes that have occurred in similar situations
***** "In every war, there's always a few soldiers who can only deal with it by writing diaries."

Zig Zagged -- a trope is used in multiple ways, or subverted more than twice, or is just used in a bad way; covers miscellaneous variations
***** It's later discovered that Suzi's capture and escape was set up by the Illuminati, to make her a hero, and a literary success, so she would become a worthy sacrifice to Moloch, who wants to appoint her as his public relations writer in Hell.

There are other ways to play with tropes -- Deconstruction, Reconstruction, Enforcement, Implication, Playing for Drama, Untwisting, and Gender Invertion -- but the ones listed above are the most common.

Next week, I will list the Omnipresent Tropes found in my writing.

Dreamlands Bestiary: The Men of Leng

Lest anyone conclude that the Dreamlands is a cute fairytale world of talking animals and bold adventurers (though the Leng Spiders should disabuse most of that notion), there are the Men of Leng.

It would be a mistake to think of Leng Men as the "orcs" of the Dreamlands. Though hardly amoral, they are not stock villains. A Leng Man is not less intelligent or more oafish than the average Human; they are simply raised in a culture with a different outlook on life. They are as clever and inventive as Humans, with a rich technology of their own, and can be very crafty and subtle. Though they think differently from Humans, they are not vastly different in personality, motivation, and behavior. If they come across as consistently evil, it is mostly because their morality is not based on altruism or brotherly love, but extreme indifference and unenlightened self-interest. A cynical lack of empathy and a macabre sense of humor is evident as well.

Leng Men are far older than Humans; they first started coming to the Dreamlands at least a million Waking-years before modern humans evolved. No one knows if they are/were Dreamers or crossed over bodily through a gate. They warred with the Spiders and defeated them, driving them into the wastes of the mountainous regions surrounding the Plateau of Leng, so they could claim the rest of the Dreamlands for themselves. They constructed a great city, Sarkomand, at the tip of a peninsula on the northern shore of the Cerenerian Sea, which, even in its current ruined state, is surpassed only by the cloud-city of Serrannian and fabulous Cathuria beyond the rim of the world.

Before Humans learned to Dream, the Moonbeasts conquered and enslaved the Leng Men. However, it isn't slavery as Humans understand it; essentially, it is a loss of autonomy. Though many are used for manual labor, especially in the Moon mines, and some are used for food, the rest live as they always have; they simply no longer have the right of self-determination. Many Leng Men in fact act as agents for their Moonbeast masters, so the rest of the Dreamworld's inhabitants don't discover who they are really dealing with.

With the coming of first Cats then Humans, the Leng Men were driven out of the middle and southern Dreamlands and forced to settle on the Plateau of Leng in the north, hence their moniker. Though they live much as Humans do in their villages, the agents travel the Dreamlands in black galleys, ostensibly trading unusual rubies for slaves and gold, but in fact furthering the goals of their Moonbeast masters. In the Six Kingdoms, their primary port of call is Dylath-Leen, but they also visit Creachabh and Hlanith, and sometimes even Celephais and Karchedon. When "in public", Leng Men cover their heads with bulbous turbans to hide their horns and ears, and wear ingenious robes or tunic-trouser combinations with special boots to disguise their crooked legs and cloven-hoof feet. Though this gives them a squat, bulky appearance, they are actually fast and agile, and very tough.

It is difficult to know how much of their culture and personality has been changed by their enslavement. For example, they delight in the torture of captives, but so do the Moonbeasts. However, one aspect that seems truly traditional is their treatment of their women as chattel. Growing up, girls are treated no different from boys, but when they "come of age" they are raped, subjected to circumcision, branded, and sold, to the Moonbeasts if no Leng Man will buy them. Unfortunately, for many families, this is the only way for them to obtain badly needed money. As a result, few female Leng Men have ever been seen outside the Plateau, but there have been exceptions, either girls raised by Humans, or those who somehow escape before their ritual humiliation. [As horrendous as this practice is, some Dreamlands Human cultures do the same, to either girls or boys depending upon which gender dominates.]

It is worth noting that there is a resistance movement of Leng Men seeking to free their people from the Moonbeast yoke. Though they accept help from Humans and other races, they are patriots rather than fanatics, and desire only the restoration of their autonomy and liberty, not to allow another race to become their masters instead.

Another One Bites the Dust

Last year, around the end of November, I submitted a story to Tor.com. Today I received notification that they rejected it.

That's not a problem; after some 35 years of effort, I'm used to it by now.

It's what they said that got to me:

Your story isn't quite right for us.

I call that the blue screen of death for writers. I mean, what the hell does that mean, exactly?

They didn't say. I'm not asking for a detailed critiqued, but surely a single sentence is not beyond human endurance? Like, we don't like stories about flies. Or, we don't want to see stories about two codgers sitting around a camp fire doing nothing but talking and drinking.

Something like that.

Yes, yes, I read the guidelines, and a few sample stories. I thought my story would fit right in. They didn't agree. Duh.

I've pretty much come to the conclusion by now that "it isn't right for us" is code for, "It sucked!". Fine, whatever. I don't expect everyone to like my writing. Hell, I'm surprised anyone DOES like my writing. But why not just say so?

Then they conclude with a statement that left my mind reeling:

Be sure to send us more stories. (paraphrase)

WTF?? You didn't like my story, but you ask me to send you more? But if you really liked my story well enough to ask to see more, why not just buy the one I submitted?!

I'm so confused!!

Seriously, the best way to encourage people to continue to submit is to BUY a story now and then, especially their first. Continually saying, "This story isn't right, but please send more!", just ends up causing either the writer to finally say, "Yeah, right. Up yours, pal!", or to his cats committing him to a loony bin for sitting in one place too long dribbling on his keyboard.

As mine are about to do right now. No, wait, here's some tuna!

In one sense, this is good news, because it gives me another story I can publish in the near future, maybe with two or three others (it is a flash piece). I just need to come up with some cover artwork.

However, it just confirms that, for whatever reasons, the general public (or at least one tiny deranged portion) likes my writing while virtually all editors do not. How such a lopsided result can exist in a quantum universe run by random chance I'll never figure out.

Maybe I'm just paranormally unlucky.

Okay, I confess, I will submit to Tor again. Someday. But only because I'm a masochist who loves ridicule and punishment.

Why else would I own cats?

Crud

My apologies for not keeping up with my blog schedule, but as I explained on Sunday I have been sick since the middle of last week. I normally write the blogs for the next week on Sunday, but I simply wasn't up to it. I am better now, so I should be able to resume my normal schedule on Friday. Thank you for your patience.

Meanwhile, here is the beginning of a Sir Differel flash piece:

Sir Differel Van Helsing paused at the edge of the moor and brushed a lock of her stringy, lifeless gray hair out of her bullet-shaped face. Her Master-at-arms, WO Giles Holt, stepped up beside her. She glanced at him, then turned her attention back to the field of Carlin stones before her. Tendrils of thick white mist drifted around them, causing them to fade in and out of sight like ghosts. Above the tableau the full harvest moon, partially obscured by black clouds with silver fringes, filled the moor with a soft blue-gray light that still managed to cause everything to stand out against the background darkness in stark relief.

She took a few steps forward, stopped, and scanned the surroundings, searching for her contact. "We're here, as requested," she called out in her light contralto. In the still quiet her voice sounded almost as if she had shouted with the full force of her lungs.

One of the menhirs shifted position, shimmered, and reformed as a caricature of a hoary old man swathed in a black hooded cloak. Its countenance was sculpted into an exaggeration of the human face, with a great hooked nose, protruding cheekbones, a long pointed chin, and a wide grinning mouth full of shark's teeth. Its eyes shined like headlamps, but with an eldritch blue hue, which surprised her. She would have expected red.

The Bodach strode towards her, leaving swirling shadowy clouds in his wake. "I would not have believed it had I not witnessed it," it said, in a voice that sounded like bricks rubbed together. "I would have thought it inconceivable that the Master of Dracula and the protector of Queen and Country would surrender herself to that which she has sworn to destroy." It reached out with a hand towards her throat.

She pulled a pistol from under her jacket and pointed it at the bridge of its nose between its eyes. "Before we get into that, there's something you need to do first."

The grin turned into a frown, but it moved his hand to the side and waved it in a languid manner. "I am a monster of my word." The remaining stones shimmered and resolved into a few dozen children ranging in age from five to twelve. Among them she spotted her son, Henry, and her ice-cold heart flared to warm life.

"Children! Over here! Come to me!"

The Bodach faded into a patch of black mist and flowed to one side. The children sprinted across the field, the older ones helping the younger ones, until they had gathered around and behind her.

"Go with this man." She indicated Holt by placing a hand on his shoulder. "He'll see to it you are returned to your homes."

"Up the hill, children." He pointed behind them, where troops waited with a dozen land rovers. "I'll be right behind you." The children started up the slope towards safety and salvation.

Henry walked up to her. "Mother..."

"Go with Mr. Holt, My Sweet Lad. Quickly!"

He hesitated, as if uncertain which of his conflicting feelings he should obey, but finally he followed the other children.

Holt turned to leave.

"Just a moment."

He paused and looked at her, and she gave him her pistol. "Take care of my son."

"Of course, Mum."

She smiled and pounded on his shoulder twice with her fist. He saluted, turned, and sprinted after Henry. Her son had stopped a short distance ahead, waiting for the old marine. When Holt reached him, he waved. She waved back, and Holt urged him to get moving. As soon as Henry's back was turned she rubbed tears from her gray eyes.

"If you are quite finished..." The Bodach's voice sounded laden with sarcasm.

"Of course." She set her face into a stony mask and turned around as it emerged from the patch of mist. "You've kept your word, now I will mine." She opened and took off her double-breasted suit jacket, removed the shoulder holster, and untied her cravat. She unbuttoned her collar, opened her shirt to her bosom, and slipped it off one shoulder.

"I offer myself to you, of my own free will; body and soul."

The grin returned as the Bodach approached. "I gladly accept, Director." It took a hold of her throat, not hard enough to choke her but just enough to restrain her. It gripped the arm of the bare shoulder and opened its mouth wide. A long, sinuous tongue emerged as it bent its head towards her neck.

She thought, Vlad; now!

A patch of intense ink-black shadow burst into existence behind the Bodach, coalesced into a tall, thin male form wearing a great coat and a wide-brimmed hat, and dissipated, revealing her vampire servant. Vlad grinned in a predatory fashion under his thick, iron-gray moustache, and thrust an arm forward, driving his hand into the Bodach's back.

It exploded into mist, blew past her, and reformed a few fathoms away. She turned to confront it as Vlad stepped up behind her.

"You gave me your word!" Its eyes blazed like twin suns as its voice thundered in rage.

"On the contrary." She slipped her shirt back onto her shoulder. "I promised not to bring him; I didn't promise not to call him once I was here. As to the other, I gave my word to offer myself, which I did, but I never said I would not withdraw the offer once you accepted." Her greatsword Caliburn appeared in her hand. "If you still want me, you must now come and take me." She raised the hilt to her face and pointed the blade straight at it.

"Then, for your deceit, you leave me no choice." It threw his hands out and wide, and a fan of small objects flew in a wide arc behind and to either side of her. She saw one land close by; it looked like some kind of tooth.

As soon as they hit the ground, cadaverous warriors in armor, bearing swords or spears, sprang up out of the earth. She felt her heart seize as she remembered her lessons in Greek mythology: the teeth of the Hydra from Jason and the Argonauts. They stood, motionless, for several moments before they're eyes lit up with the same blue glow as the Bodach's. They brandished their weapons, screamed, and charged.

No New eBook Today

My sincerest apologies, but I have been sick all week, and I really need to get my taxes done.

I will publish the last ebook in my schedule next Sunday, if not sooner.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Introduction to Tropes

There are four basic elements so natural to the medium of storytelling that they are present in virtually any form of media by default. They are not, strictly speaking, absolutely necessary, but leaving them out tends to create either a rather poor work or one that is particularly surreal.

To begin with, a story has some form of Conflict , whether it be Man Against Other Men (or Women), Man Against Nature, or Man Against Himself. Though there can be four more (God or Fate, Society, Machines, and Being Caught in the Middle), generally speaking "Man" is any defeatable entity and "Nature" can be defined as anything that must be survived or changed rather than defeated, thereby encompassing these others.

Next, the Plot is the story condensed to a single descriptive word or phrase, such as The Quest, Forbidden Love, or The Fish Out of Water. Depending upon the definition of terms and how literally they are taken, there can be as few as Seven Basic Plots, as many as Twenty Master Plots, or even a list of dozens.

The Motif is the theme of the story condensed to a single descriptive word or phrase, such as Cinderella, The Uriah Gambit, or The Animal Savior. Plots and Motifs often overlap, but they can also be mixed and matched to create a bewildering variety of storylines.

Some people would also include other elements such as setting and characters and genre to this list, but more often than not the nature of these elements are closely tied to both plot and motif, to the extent that they are usually dictated by the latter.

The fourth element, and the point of this series of posts, is the Trope . It is a storytelling convention that uses a recognizable pattern to send a specific message. Like the other three elements, tropes can be used to analyze a story, but generally haven't been until comparatively recently, because tropes were first formulated as criticisms. In fact, people still tend to think of tropes as cliches that are used as crutches by lazy creators who cannot or will not be more creative. In reality, however, tropes only become cliches when they become intrusive and disrupt the story. Even tropes normally associated with bad writing, such as Discredited Tropes or tropes that invoke Sturgeon's Law, can and have been used successfully in many acclaimed works.

Ultimately, Tropes Are Just Tools . Creators use them to control audience expectations. They allow creators to convey ideas quickly without having to describe them in detail; in other words, they act as a convenient shorthand. They can subvert "show don't tell" in the same way that metaphors do. In fact, the idea behind minimalist writing states that anything which does not advance the plot should be eliminated. So using a trope in place of a paragraph of description adheres to this ideal, especially if the trope can get the idea across more clearly.

The point is, Tropes Are Not Bad. This is because ultimately There Is Nothing New Under the Sun. Every story is influenced by what came before it; it's virtually unavoidable. The fact that there are only a few forms of conflict and plotting should make this abundantly clear, and while there are many more tropes, there are many, many, many more stories, so tropes will end up being reused regardless. What matters is how they are used, how many are used, and how often they are used.

It should also be pointed out that many tropes are very old, dating as far back as Sumerian mythology, while others were developed by the Greeks and Romans, Medieval writers and bards, Shakespeare, and the Victorians, to name a few. So tropes have been around for a long time, and have been used and reused countless times in works throughout history. Heck, even Homer used tropes!

As well, Almost Every Trope Has a Silver Lining; that is, it can create highly regarded and memorable moments in a story, even if it is normally reviled as cliche. Even if a trope cannot be used in this way, it can still be used honorably by way of subversion or parody.

At the very least, it is well to remember that Fiction Isn't Necessarily Supposed to be Realistic. Most people read fiction to temporarily escape from reality, not to be further immersed in it. "Unrealistic" tropes help to make that possible as long as they are not too outrageous or unexpected.

Besides, it's impossible to create a story without tropes. Even Finnegan's Wake , a story many people believe has no conflict, plot, or theme, nonetheless uses many tropes.

At the same time, it's important to keep in mind that Tropes Are Not Good. For one thing, All Tropes Can Be Used Badly and All Tropes Can Be Overused. Even those that everyone considers good.

For another, Just Because a Trope Is Realistic Doesn't Mean It's Good. The problem here is the audience is often so used to certain tropes that they expect to see them, and if something more realistic is substituted they tend to find that jarring because it defies their expectations. Such as the "fake" Scottish accent of a real Scottish actor, or the "unhistorical" Vikings that have no horns on their helmets. The point is that it is more important for a story to be believable than real, so Acceptable Breaks From Reality are permitted.

Finally, A Good Story Doesn't Need "Good" Tropes. It's not the presence of tropes that make a story good, so leaving them out doesn't make it bad. In other words, it may be impossible to create a story without using any tropes at all, but even basic tropes like The Hero or The Villain are not absolutely needed to make a good story.

The purpose of this series of posts is to list and discuss the tropes that appear in my stories. As such, by convention, any word or phrase that I present in bold is the name of a trope. Many tropes are Exactly What It Says On the Tin ; that is, the name states exactly what the trope is about. However, the names of many tropes are fairly obscure, so when necessary I will explain what the name means.

Many tropes are Unisex Tropes ; that is, they are either gender neutral or apply equally well to both sexes. However, some tropes are Always Male while others are Always Female . Even then, they can be Gender Inverted ; that is, force-applied to a member of the opposite sex. In that case, a woman that represents an Always Male trope is called a Distaff Counterpart , whereas a man that represents an Always Female trope is called a Spear Counterpart. Even so, some tropes cannot be Gender Flipped without creating ridiculous results. For example, there can be no Distaff Counterpart to the Carpet of Virility , or a Spear Counterpart to Boobs of Steel , unless Played For Laughs.

As a final point, it is worth mentioning that many tropes are Truth In Television . This is when a trope actually reflects something that happens in real life. Even so, such a trope can still be used in a manner that is totally unrealistic. If people nonetheless still accept it as real, it is either due to TV Never Lies or The Coconut Effect . The latter is based on the use of half coconut shells to simulate the sound of horse-hooves back in the days of radio. People have come to so thoroughly accept that sound as authentic that they will reject actual recordings of trotting horses as unrealistic.

Next week, I will describe how to Play With Tropes. No, not like that.

Dreamlands Bestiary: Dolphins

Dolphins are one of four known Dreaming species; the others being Humans, Cats, and Spiders. Dolphins were the second of the four to discover the Dreamlands, after Spiders, and like the others acquired intelligence through Dreaming. However, since they lived in the seas and oceans of the Dreamlands, they rarely come into conflict with any of the land races.

Like Humans, but unlike Cats and Spiders, Dolphins act in the Dreamlands pretty much as they do in the Waking World. They have a single language, but individual pods have their own dialect. Few Dolphins can speak the language of a land race, but they have developed a lingua franca with Cats and some Humans. However, they are fluent in all the languages of the sea races. They have a rich oral tradition, and often pods hold courts to swap stories, news, and new experiences.

Dolphins have treaties with Human governments, the Cat and Spider Councils of Elders, and the Leng Men. They are friendliest with Humans, as they are in the Waking World, but are on good terms with Cats and certain Spiders and Leng Men. However, they are enemies with Moonbeasts, but they seldom interact with each other. Among the sea races, they are tolerant of the Gnorri, mostly staying out of their territory, but are at war with the Mermaids. Presently their war is cold, but it frequently flares hot for short periods. Nonetheless, it should be pointed out that, like Humans and Cats, there are evil Dolphins who side with their enemies against their own species.

Dolphins are the only cetaceans known to be Dreamers, but rumors persist of Orca pods in the great oceans, and the mighty Cachalot are speculated to be Dreaming Sperm Whales.

Synopsis: Mansion of Terror (a Sir Differel adventure)

The return of the Princess in Orange.

Differel is falling asleep over her work, and lays her head down her desk to catch 40 winks. She has a waking dream in which she imagines lying naked on a massage table as she receives a body rub. Just as she drifts off she hears a voice saying:

"Are you enjoying it, Cousin?"

Differel comes instantly awake, twists around, and sees the Princess in Orange standing over her, and she’s also naked. She grasps the sheet and leaps off, holding it in front of her as she puts the table between them. The PiO explains that after her last visit, she began to realize that she had become enamored of Differel, but it took her awhile to figure out why. She’s too flat-chested -- she prefers double-D boobs at least -- and skinny in the hips, but then she realized it was her butt, which she considers luscious and delicious. She intends to ravish her, and she won’t take no for an answer. She and Differel had been circling the table, the PiO trying to get closer as Differel tried to avoid her, but then the PiO made it disappear. Differel backs away as the PiO approaches, and the sheet disappears. She backs into a corner, and the PiO traps her. She’s spun around, and hands come out of the walls to grasp her wrists and ankles, securing her. The PiO presses against her, and a wave of nausea engulfs her as the room seems to tilt. When it stabilizes she finds that the corner flattened itself out and became a floor. The PiO licks down her spine and proceeds to lick and nosh her butt, even licking at her anus on occasion.

Desperate, Differel suggests they play another game. When the PiO asks why, Differel offers to let the PiO ravish her of her own free will, not just now, but any time and any place in the future, if she loses. Intrigued, the PiO stops and asks what she wants if she wins. She replies that the Carcosan renounce any desire for her body. The PiO refuses, but instead offers to wait until Differel wants it. She agrees.

The hands release her and she stands up. She finds herself in the attic room of an eerie dilapidated structure; a “haunted” house. The PiO explains that the game is very simple: escape from the house and she wins. There are no other conditions or rules. Puzzled, Differel opens the only door and starts down a flight of stairs, when naked demonic vampiric zombies with huge erections appear below her and rush at her. She manages to get back inside the attic and close the door, which holds against their efforts to batter it down. The PiO grins at her and pretends she forgot to mention that the house is crawling with undead critters who will rape her in all of her orifices, suck out her blood, and tear her apart if they catch her. She asks how she could possibly derive any pleasure from her in that condition, now or later, and the PiO responds that she can stretch her death out to an interval a million times longer than the heat death of the universe, so she’ll have plenty of time to take whatever pleasure she pleases from her before she allows her to die. Differel accuses her of creating a deathtrap and that there is no way out. The PiO responds that there is a way to win the game, but she must figure it out on her own.

With nothing else to go on, Differel goes to one of the windows, thinking she can crawl up onto the roof, but the PiO tells her she cannot be in physical contact with the house for it to count. One window overlooks the back garden with a surrounding wall, but the PiO tells her that the backyard counts as part the house. Besides, she doesn’t want to go down there, and Differel sees the garden is crawling with undead. However, there is a balcony on the next story below, and a vine clinging to the wall she could climb down. She opens the window and finds out how cold it is. She crawls out onto the vine, but the wind is so strong it threatens to blow her off, and she gets dangerously chilled. Still, she makes it to the balcony, which opens onto a study, and it is empty of undead.

Differel rubs her chest and stomach as she explores the room. A longsword hangs on display, and it is sharpened, so she takes it. She peers out the main door to orient herself. She finds the room is off a central stairwell accessed by a balcony, and that all the other rooms open off the balcony as well, but there are undead present. She retreats back inside and heads for the clockwise wall door. Going clockwise will get her to the head of the stairs faster. It opens onto a sitting room, and she hopes the rooms are all interconnected. She crosses the room and opens the next door; that way leads into a corner bedroom. She searches for anything she can use, but all she finds is a loaded .45 automatic with two extra magazines in a bedside table drawer, so she claims it. The next room is a bathroom; she relieves herself without flushing, drinks her fill from the faucet, and wraps her hair in a towel. The next room is a wardrobe, so she dresses.

The next room is a game room with open doors, where she encounters three undead. The first two she takes out with the sword; the third nearly kills her before she rams a pool ball into its mouth and stabs it through the eye with a dart. More start to come in and she shoots at them as she retreats. She enters another wardrobe but the undead crash through the door. She sprints through the bathroom beyond into another corner bedroom, slams the door shut, and topples a chest of drawers over in front of it. Momentarily safe, she relaxes, then sees the PiO in bed having sex with three undead. She says not to mind her, she’s just having a spot of recreation. The undead chasing her start to force the door open, so Differel throws the door to the stairhall open, then rushes into the adjoining sitting room. She watches through the cracked door as the pursuing undead breach the room, but the PiO directs them into the stairhall. She then winks at her before going back to enjoying herself again.

Differel decides to put extra distance between her and pursuit, and goes into the next room, which turns out to be a library. A hearty blaze is burning, and a side table under a window has sherry and finger sandwiches, along with a note from the PiO stating that she has done so well so far that she deserves a respite. She decides to take a short rest; she eats some of the sandwiches and pours some sherry. She spots a book on a table beside a stuffed leather chair; it turns out to be a journal of the house, including floorplans. Three stories, plus attic and basement, but no back stairs. However, ahead of her is a dining room, and the plan indicates there is a dumbwaiter there, that goes down to the kitchen. She rips the plan for the ground floor out of the book, eats another couple of sandwiches, washes them down with sherry, and goes into the adjoining sitting room. There she finds two more undead that had become trapped inside; she dispatches them both.

She jogs through the bedroom, but pauses in the bathroom to drink more water. She hears a noise in the wardrobe. She opens the door, but sees nothing at first. She starts to pass through, but then undead appear in front of her, coming out from behind hanging clothing. She backs away, and runs into another group of undead coming up behind her. They grapple her, and she has no choice: she pulls the pistol and begins shooting. They let her go and she wades into the group in front, shooting and chopping with the sword. She makes it through and finds herself in the dining room, which is full of undead. She fights her way to the dumbwaiter and crawls inside. When she runs out of bullets, she stabs with the sword, but it gets pulled out of her hands. She kicks with her feet as she loads another magazine and shoots the undead, allowing her to slap her hand on the button. Several undead hold the door open as it closes, and she shoots them to make them let it go. It finally closes and the lift starts on down.

She expels the clip and sees it has only one bullet left. She pockets it and inserts her last magazine. She crouches, ready to fire, as the doors open, but the kitchen appears deserted. She crawls out and takes a moment to study the floorplan. She memorizes the route from the kitchen through the servant area into the stairhall and finally to the entry hall where the front exit lies. She collects half a dozen steak knives and a carving knife and heads out. The hall appears deserted, so she decides to take a chance and hurries. She shoots a few undead who appear out of doorways, but when she reaches the hall she finds it filled with undead. She fights her way to the entry hall, expending all her bullets, and losing the carving knife; her clothes are ripped off and she is left virtually naked. She reaches and open the doors. She throws the steak knives and gets the doors closed. As they pound on them, she runs to the double doors, but when she throws them open she finds the entryway is bricked-up. The same is true for the windows. She’s trapped.

The PiO appears, and she accuses her of lying and cheating. The PiO explains that she is on a parallel earth where an outbreak of undead occurred. That house was one place where they came through, and in an attempt to contain them the people bricked up the ground floor doors and windows. Unfortunately it didn’t stop the undead from coming through elsewhere, and the people were all wiped out. That was ten years ago. Differel states that to win she had to get out of the house, but obviously she can’t. The PiO corrects her by saying she had to escape the house, and she can: she literally has the one means to do so. She realizes she means the one remaining bullet, and that she must use it to commit suicide; or else the undead will kill her when they break down the door.

Either way she’s dead, and the Carcosan Royal Family will have won, but one way leads to virtual damnation as the PiO’s sex toy, while the other reunites her with her own family in Heaven. Besides, she realizes she would rather die with dignity and pride than be slaughtered like a cow, despite the risk to her soul. She loads the magazine, cocks the gun, and places the muzzle against the underside of her jaw at the top of her throat, hoping she has the right angle. As the undead break down the doors, she regrets not being able to guide Henry as he grows up and takes over the Order, then pulls the trigger.

Aelfraed’s voice startles her awake and she sits up. At first she believes it was all just a dream. She decides to knock off for the day, but first wants to check her email. When she activates the computer, the PiO’s face appears on the screen. She explains that, as she said the last time, her parents want her dead, and having renounced her desire to make her her lady-in-waiting she had few options left. Fortunately, there are playthings and there are playthings, and she figured it might be more fun to eat her to death. But again she managed to pull a miracle out of her ass and save herself; namely, she didn’t believe she had the strength to kill herself. Few people do. So, she gets another reprieve as she tries to come up with some other way to eliminate her.

Oh, and she will keep her word: she’ll wait until she asks her for sex; she will, someday, though she will remind her now and again. When Differel states that she shouldn’t count on it, the PiO flashes an evil grin, as if she knows something Differel doesn’t. She then adds that she should keep in mind that if she can’t eat her one way, she will another, and that her parents’ patience is not infinite. However, she needs to rethink a few things herself. She finds Differel much more fascinating than anyone else she’s encountered in a long time; maybe a different approach is needed. The image of the PiO fades out and the computer destructs, leaving Differel to wonder what she meant by that last.

Synopsis: Alien Husbandry (a Team Girl adventure)

Warning: This story deals with tentacle erotica and bestiality!

Eile is sitting in the waiting room of a cosmetic surgeon, waiting to have a consultation about having her breasts enlarged. The doctor calls her into her office, and Eile discovers it is Mabuse. When she tries to run, she finds the door locked and robots appear out of the walls. They seize her and one injects her with a drug that immobilizes her. Mabuse then closes her eyes and has one of the robots carry her into an elevator.

Medb arrives at the house Eile and sunny share to tell Sunny that Eile had gone to a cosmetic surgeon. She was suppose to meet with Medb for lunch, but she never showed up. She and sunny decide to raid the surgeon's office to find her.

Eile feels herself stripped naked and strapped onto an exam table. Mabuse injects her with an antidote and proceeds to give her an examination. She also explains that she intends to use Eile as an experimental subject for a research project she's working on. She intends to mate Eile to an alien creature.

Medb and Sunny arrive at the surgeon's office. They subdue the receptionist and break in on the doctor, discovering it's Mabuse. Using the threat of killing Eile, she gets Medb and Sunny to accompany her to her lab. There she explains about the alien creature, and how the larva that hatch after mating with human women are virtual factories for many wonder drugs that could revolutionize medicine. She wants to mate one of the girls. She threatens to use Eile if Sunny doesn't volunteer. Sunny agrees over Medb's protests, and gives her word she will not try to escape. That prevents Medb or Eile from interfering. Also, Mabuse's robots present a threat even Medb is hesitant to take on. Besides, Mabuse has given Eile a drug that will kill her unless she receives daily injections of the antidote, to prevent her and Medb from breaking Sunny's word. As well, the military is involved, and they have their own methods of securing the girls' cooperation.

After a battery of tests, Sunny is prepared for the mating. She is strapped into a harness to prevent her from running away from the creature, and then it is released. Sunny is frightened at first, but Eile calms her and excites her by reminding her of an erotic assignation they had the previous weekend. The creature mates with her, then anesthetized so they can retrieve Sunny. Over the next three weeks the larva grows in her womb as her body undergoes massive biochemical fluctuations that weaken her severely. After it emerges, it clamps itself onto one of her breast to suckle. After five days, Mabuse detaches it and conducts some preliminary tests. She discovers this is the best the larva yet obtained, producing a myriad of biochemicals with potentially powerful pharmaceutical value. She gives Eile the final antidote shot and lets the girls go. However, the military intervenes and Col. Torain Thegn, who is in charge of the project, tries to take the girls and Medb captive to use them to produce more larva. He wants the creature developed into a weapon. When Mabuse objects, he threatens to kill the girls unless she complies. Realizing her sponsors have double-crossed her, Mabuse frees the creature, and in the confusion she gets Medb and the girls away. She takes time to secure the larva, previous samples, and her data, and have it transported to a secret location. The military sends her robots against Medb and the girls, but Mabuse uses an override code to regain control of them, and she uses them as a shield to get past the military's own defenses. She leads them up to the surface, to a motor pool where they can secure a van, but Col. Thegn intercepts them. However, Lt. Gen. Morgan Leia Ross, who is in charge of the black ops division that initiated the project, arrives and arrests Thegn. She lets Mabuse, Medb, and the girls go free, since the project is now ruined when Thegn and his troops killed the creature in self-defense.

Mabuse takes them back to the girls' home. Medb offers Mabuse sanctuary from the military, in gratitude for saving them, but Mabuse declines. She wants to start work on extracting the biochemicals from the larva. And she leaves.

A week later, Sunny has practically recovered from her ordeal. She's already planning a new adventure, when a special delivery arrives. It consists of a letter from Mabuse apologizing for how she treated the girls, a cheque for a quarter of a million dollars as compensation, and a bank notice stating that a two percent royalty from the sale of the larval pharmaceuticals will be placed in an account in their name. The statements shows that there is already a hundred thousand in the account.

Julie d'Aubigny "La Maupin"

Had Medb not been based on the legendary Medb of Connacht, she would probably have been based on the life of La Maupin. She lived in France during the reign of Louis XIV as an opera singer and a professional duelist, sometimes dressing and acting as a woman, including marriage, and sometimes dressing and acting like a man, including seducing women. Unlike other women who were bisexual or who crossed genders, she seems to have lived a true transgender lifestyle.

For more information, see the following webpages:

The Adventures of La Maupin

Badass -- Julie D'Aubigny