Heaven Itself is Just a Little Less than Perfect

Heaven itself is just a little less than perfect: for perfection, by self-definition, is a static condition, and anything truly static has deceased its purpose.

For Heaven to incorporate change or development, there needs be something to change, someone to improve - very little is static or null in the broader Cosmos, and that which is, is not talked of, or thought about, by those who know of it.

Brogan's recovery would take longer yet - needing a soothing time bolstered with Angelic counsel.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Hall of Healing Dreams

Worldly time can go by very quickly if you are not paying attention to it - especially when you dwell within the Spiritual Worlds.

In the meanwhile, Marley had experienced three broken relationships, each with men who had seemed so right for her to begin with, who had then became intolerable, soon after.

Brogan had been recovering in the hall of healing dreams, enwrapped in visions of what his life might have been.

He was conscious for a short while when Puck had helped to bring him around, but the shock of the violence he had met with in death, kept fracturing his awareness, and he needed a period of remedial help - some salve for the soul, to become whole again.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Princely Race with Superlative Powers

The endurance of the consciousness and the being of Man impressed Puck completely. He believed that the Kingdom of Man was truly a princely race with superlative powers - undeveloped as yet when compared to his race - but nonetheless they were trying hard, and he had faith in them. The Fey world however, was divided on this matter.

The wound in Brogan's head rapidly sealed over, and he looked almost new again. He then rolled onto his back, looked up into the face before him and instantly fell in love.

Puck had that effect on most folk he saved - it just couldn't be helped.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Spiritual Shock

Brogan was suffering from spiritual shock. When Jet had attacked him, his day had turned into night so very fast and his out-of-body experience had ended with a total disassociation from his self and from everything else.

Puck had seen this before - it was unnerving to find the spirit so pitifully sad.

He placed one hand on Brogan's shoulder and one over his heart, and said quietly, yet firmly:

"Brogan, you have walked the Ages and survived all conflicts to find this to be true:
That your Spirit is permeable yet durable.
Neither one thing, nor any being can extinguish your knowing, your passion, or your love.
Wake now and talk to me as I have waited eons for this moment that you might speak".

Of course it had not really been aeons ... more exactly several minutes, but Puck felt that the words were appropriate to the first part, and the rest had been no exaggeration.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Karma is Entirely Real

Karma is entirely real and in time Jet would come to experience the pain he had caused others on so many levels.

But the pathetic tragedy of Murder itself lies in the fact that it is not ever an act of Karma in the first instance - it is never destined or recourse - never a consideration of the fates or redeemable directly.

Murder and suicide cannot be planned for within the destinies; for turning against life is unconscionable to all Life.

Murder interrupts the workings of the inner spirit most terribly for those who suffer the unforeseen.

And so, it was never 'meant' that Jet had turned his jealousy of Brogan into a violence: placing him limply curled inside a fruit picker's crate, dumped into a sand pit at the mines – so that he now, was never to become the husband he was to have been, to Marley.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Feature Windows the Fashionable Fey Install

Puck soothed his eyes by turning away from the game to gaze out the window.

It was one of those feature windows the fashionable Fey install, that can change their view every twenty minutes or so. The scenes showing are actual places that exist – and they act as a living portal into these different lands, though they are far away.

"What country is it this time?" Bart asked excitedly, chewing on a lump of buttered toast. He and the others had been keeping watch with it, whenever they were awake.

"Hard to say - could be Mexico or maybe Peru."

"Finally, some solid land!" exclaimed Biff as he bolted over to see closer, then flipped the latch, heaving it up and open, leaping out through to the other side.

"Do you think he was a bit bored staying here so long?" Goober asked Puck, who was watching Biff disappear into the distance.

"I'd say so" he said casually, and then added, "I'll go get him in the morning after he discovers no one can see him - he still hasn't figured on being dead yet."


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Many Kinds of Dead

"Puck's dead! He's dead! They've killed him! Finally no more!"

"No he's not" said Goober shaking his head, "he just looks dead ... let me show you” he pointed at the screen with a touch of authority.

"See - he gets right back up again ... just wait for the zombies to finish picking his flesh off his bones, and then he is ready to go again".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

He had no Control of this Character

Puck reluctantly went over to the screen to see what Goober was going crazy about. And there it was - his very own Avatar of him - only he had no control of this character - someone else had created it.

With a perfect likeness, the game of WAR had not only crafted him into their storyline, but evidently made him out to be a target. Comet spears were being hurled at the Puck in the game and players were rewarded with special powers for striking him.

"He's even got a name like yours" Goober laughed. "Oh really? And what is it then?"
"Puke" said Goober.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

He was not used to having Enemies

He had been heavily depressed for three days now, since moving in with the 'boys' into Goober's apartment.

"Yep! There you are!" Goober motioned for Puck to get up and join him, "you have to see this!"

Puck did not want to see it - he heard Goober loud and clear telepathically and felt crushed. He was not used to having enemies, and this one made him sick with despair. It was personal, it was dangerous, and he could not back off - not now.

"It's hilarious" Goober yelled.

Goober was jiggling the controls and wore that weird open-eyed look that folk get when they have been playing online for far too long.

"Look Peanut-head, this is not hilarious, it's hurtful - amongst other things” Puck muttered to himself.

Biff, Jobe and Bart had all fallen asleep sitting upright. It was the air causing it, and also their being in a house of Fae. The effect meant that they could not stay awake for very long, however, when they were unconscious they were happy, for the dreams in Goober's apartment were always soothing and cheerful.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Seedpods were Exploding Mid Air

There was nothing to be done - in the five minutes or so it had taken Puck to navigate his way back into the Etheric Forest the branches of his home were showering ashes, and seedpods were exploding mid air.

The entire upper level was covered in black and thick oily smoke that was seeping up through the ground at the base of the tree. Biff, Bart and Jobe sat on the grass nearby smoking. Each thought that the other had been the cause of it.

"Can't you just put back time?" Bartholomew asked, trying to salve it all very quickly.

Puck shook his head gravely, no.
"I didn't think that enchanted homes could burn down" Biff objected.

"They can" answered Puck dolefully, "where magic has caused the fire in the first place".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Spidercrawl (the Fey Web)

Puck did notice a large circular pendant that he wore under his shirt on the breastbone. It emanated a weird pulsing darkness, which was something that only a Fey could have seen. There were no clues as to what strange energy within was causing it. Puck had heard of foreign anti-matter that pulsed with dark rays, but had never seen any himself, he had however read the conjecture on Spidercrawl (the Fey Web).

Marsden had a magnetic implant that actually held the medallion in place, grafted under the skin – another of the gamer's new inventions.

They had sold them in the millions within one year of their release. What the wearers did not know was that each one had been encoded with individual tracking, activated by the WAR's resource unit, should they ever activate them.

Conspicuously Puck was the only one in the room not wearing one. He was all prepared to glamour them, however Marsden walked straight up to him and hissed "You need to find your own game to play in Fae ... your kind are not welcome here".

Puck was mildly taken aback that Marsden had recognised this about him.

Marsden's medallion seemed to emit some kind of black smoke that turned in a spiral like a Catherine wheel before the sparks take flight. The other men in the room all rose from their seats and moved in towards him threateningly.

The animosity was palpable.

"Where there's smoke there's fire,” Marsden snarled cryptically.

And then, in one dreadful moment, Puck could feel it - his chest ached and he suddenly became breathless - his beloved tree was burning.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Locks Were Never a Difficulty for Puck

Puck sensed that Marsden was on the second level of the building - that he was still present, yet hidden away in the viewing room above.

He wanted to make formal contact this night and so the Elf kept his appearance set to tangible. He straightened his hair and proceeded up the stairs to the main deck.

Puck knocked briskly, twice, on the Captain's door.
"We're closed for the night - email headquarters in the morning,” a voice answered abruptly.

The door stayed firmly shut.

Locks were never a difficulty for Puck. He quietly spoke to it, asking it to remember unlocking itself earlier - and with that the lock decided to show him how, went 'click' and turned back – letting Puck inside.

Once there, he saw twenty or more young men entering data into their laptops. Several were counting and bundling notes into bank bags - whilst two others were doing the same with tokens of e-dollars and string medallions.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Stream of Energetic & Pressing Thoughts

It had been a very long day and Puck's sandy-gold hair had grown to shoulder length, just with the stress of it all. From sun up to sun down his hair could grow anywhere from six to twelve inches - his daily routine took a lot of grooming.

Although his fatigue could never be physical, it was real nonetheless - and more of an ague of the thought processes; a stream of energetic and pressing thoughts that were frustrated by unforgiving problems, when in a tangle.

Phillip Marsden was one such problem that kept flashing before him, as if to alert Puck of some impending danger he needed to attend to. Puck acutely felt the persuasion of his intuition, and so late though it was, he decided to go out yet again and check up on what Marsden was doing right at that moment.

When Puck arrived at the convention centre he found that the main doors were wide open and people were coming and going, packing up after the three-day extravaganza.

It was a comical sight, as more than a few were still in costume - there were super-heroes struggling with packed cartons and Goddesses, messy haired and smudged with bilious makeup, looking adorably human and very tired.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Interior was Quite Palatial

Puck was wheeling a very large cardboard box inside the tree-house where a small group of men were waiting nervously for him to arrive.

They sat looking at one another, fidgeting uncomfortably with their juice cups. They had no idea where they were or why.

The interior was quite palatial and very contemporary, nothing like anything this group had been used to before.

Puck cut through the tape, tore open the top, and pulled out a large leather jacket from the box he had just brought in - they nodded admiringly. He had picked a style he felt that they would all be most comfortable with wearing.

"There's one for each of you fellas" he said generously - anticipating their approval ahead of time.

Before handing them out he took stock of the material before him. They had no idea what they were in for - or how useful they could be. They didn't even know yet that they were dead.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

String Chips

WAR had developed a form of identification within the game they named 'string'. String was similar to a barcode, yet far more complex - using scanners on phone apps that could differentiate colour. String code was a series of incremental colours that could be translated into country, sex, member, number etc. - it also could update financial and status details, with the information concealed from the general players.

Their technology was 'smell' sensitive also - engineered with a code that could identify hyper-aromatic keynotes of the person to which they belonged. It refused to scan unless they were coupled with the exact person to whom it had signature coded in this way. This capability was unique to the Company.

The String Chips were coiled into flat discs and no bigger than a single centimetre. – Already a tenth of the world was embedded and catalogued this way. The ID was compulsory for a player to be part of the game – and whether online or in person, it came with fabulous discounts in every store and service available.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Mega Solidarity

The WAR Convention was a popular event, held bi-annually in every state, in all the major countries of the world, simultaneously.

Once inside one of their huge exhibition centres you could see massive screens flashing living images that were relaying live feeds from sister events; bringing an excellent sensation of mega solidarity to every participant involved.

Men, women, and their children attended these special days wearing their lavishly apparelled costumes, decorated with extraordinary detail, replicating their online characters.

The hardcore gamers arrived in outfits that had cost them several thousand dollars to commission – one of a kind - dressing as Warlocks, Battle Lords, Alien Powers, Sorcerers, Sovereigns, Goddesses, Vampires, Demigods, and every mythical character imaginable.

They sported their tools of power that had been earned through levels won - signified with medallions and jewels that had been delivered to their doors via courier just prior to the event. Some of these prizes were of genuine gold and silver, studded with gems for those with higher levels accomplished.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Clowns were Amazingly Unpopular

It wasn't until his last year of study research that he had discovered that clowns were amazingly unpopular and considered to be the root cause of many phobias, which lasted into adulthood. Shortly after he acquired the rabbit suit from a pawnshop that was closing down. Some junkie had brought it in a box with a few other things and demanded money on a day when cash was in short supply. He had pulled a gun on the lady who reacted in kind, and had killed him.

Although his suit was tainted with tragedy, it was a quality item nonetheless - being a perfect fit, and had a lightweight breathable fibre that never overheated; large dark glass eyes to see out of, and real angora fur. The ears added an impressive height. So as sad as the story was, this suit had really seemed 'meant' for him and he loved wearing it.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Three Gold Coins

Yang refused to let Puck pass through and wouldn't say why. It took several attempts and three gold coins for Yang to look the other way while he slipped through. When Puck finally reached him, Eric was crying pitifully and his tears were smudging the tattoos on his arms and the words there were all dissolving into a blur.

"Hey Eric, you wanna get out of here?"

Eric could not hear him and did not see him - he did not believe in the Fey, or even Hell for that matter, and this was now blocking his perception of what truly was.

Puck reached over and touched Eric's hand. Eric yelped and shrank back - he thought that another of those sharp needles was pricking him.

Puck hated to admit it, but the Guardian Yang had been right - Eric simply wasn't ready yet. It was going to be one of those mornings.

He patted the cowering man on the back sympathetically, and resolved to return as soon as circumstances were worthwhile. With three more coins he asked the Ape on the way out to let him know when Eric was up to being released and could go home with him.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Ape at the Gate

But now it had come to this. He strained to see what surrounded him in the dark, but could not make out what was real and what was fatigue flying at him.

Strangely lit forms would suddenly appear right in front of his face bobbing up and down, and then flash backwards with a shriek before disappearing.

Worse again were pitch-dark blobs that hovered weightily in front of his eyes, like clouds of squid ink that were blacker than black, drifting frighteningly close, until he pushed their soft cold forms away. He could not sleep, he had to stay vigilant - these things kept coming. Eric shivered with misery.

Puck had forgotten to collect Eric sooner - he had intended to do so but had so many other things on his mind of late.

He checked in with the Ape at the Gate who - being extremely surly - was giving nothing away but attitude.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Madness is Genuinely Erratic

Whilst persistently looking at Marley, Jet had actually thought that they were having some meaningful telepathic conversation together, and in his own mind it was going very well.

In the meanwhile Goober was trying his hardest to intervene with other ideas like: "best come back another day" and "I should be going now".

Jedi persuasion was not Goober's strongpoint - he was too nice a character to impose his will over any other being really. But it was his task to try his level best to deter Jet from causing harm to Marley, and try he must.

Goober's perceptive powers were very good yet he could not tell what Jet would do next. Madness is genuinely erratic for there is never any real logical reasoning to it at all - there may be patterns you can find, but it is still so incredibly unpredictable.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Payment for Dwarf Services

"You're late" he growled.

"Am I?" asked Puck in a wry, camp tone. While saying this he had put Harvey's clock back half an hour. He asked him to check his phone again. Harvey knew Puck's tricks and was too agitated to find it funny.

"Did you bring all of them?" he asked, still talking as though he loathed Puck's company. The Fey made him nervous, although he never would admit it.

Puck handed Harvey a small neat metallic box - it had no visible lid or latch.

"There are two inside", he said, stepping back a few paces waiting for the roar.

"What-do-ya mean only two?" Harvey spat.
"These two are enough - you can tell them they are the best that I have."

And with that he disappeared without waiting for a thank you - which never would have been given, as Trolls have no manners whatsoever.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Cut from the Same Cloth

Pepper looked perplexed - she also looked stunning. She wore her intensely copper red hair short cropped, with an emerald green tshirt, tight black jeans and tall studded matching suede boots. Iridescent green beetle shells dangled from her golden earrings. Puck glanced at his sister appreciatively - he loved the way she took him seriously - they were cut from the same cloth - and he knew that she felt the gravity of his concerns - he could always trust her.

Pepper's eyes sprang tears with empathetic sadness - she asked, "Puck, what is it this time?" her voice questioned gently ... "You have seen the failure of men before - why is now so very important?"

As she had asked this something of her youthfulness fell away, and momentarily Pepper grew an inch or so taller. She would do this from time to time, gaining the appearance of a strong and learned queen rather than that of the sprite she had seemed to be minutes earlier. Puck had this characteristic too - he could look boyish and gentle, yet when he felt strongly about something his features would become fierce and beyond bargaining with.

Puck read her thoughts on this and said blankly,

"Sis, we are not estranged from the consequences of their ills - we truly are not. I cry for them, I weep for us - is there a difference to be had between crying and weeping?".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Last Few Years of Atlantis

Puck had that sinking feeling when he remembered back to the last few years of Atlantis. It was the saddest of times to recall the Machina who had plundered the etheric world just prior to that magnificent age's downfall. He thought back to the faith both the Mortals and Fey had invested in them, right up until the end.

Fey folk are not autocrats, they are suspicious of repetition - and predominantly light-hearted when in their proper element.

The Machina however, were methodically skilled and deadly serious - they lacked verve and self-awareness, due to eons of conformity. They came from a part of the Cosmos that worshipped an icy sun, and did not belong naturally to the evolution of the earth - it beings and the kingdoms - for which it was comprised. Their sanitised view infected the minds wherever they would settle, and wherever they settled they took control.

And now Puck had evidence of their returning. His lips tightened as tears of anger sprang to his eyes. Standing right in front of a promo poster he read:

"WAR - Come and live the untouchable life now" he winced.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Illuminati of the Internet

The acronym WAR stood for: WORLD AGAINST RECOGNITION.

Forums chattered about the meanings this could have. In a time when facial recognition in the real world became a hot topic, with cameras everywhere - even in supermarkets - facial markers succeeded all other forms of identification; and people detested being filmed. Citizens were encased in security measures that felt stifling. Virtual society offered a rare kind of freedom through its oblique anonymity.

WAR was similar to other fantasy games, yet its platform was occult and in many respects, very real. The graphics intoxicating, with subliminal fills; the chat and messaging was so secure, because it lay outside the usual channels that were government filtered, circumventing the common servers, impenetrable to the security agencies.

WAR was sophisticated and worked.

It recruited thousands and drew in persons from politics, commerce and management. Its high level participants were the new Masons - the Illuminati of the internet - who lived and created their personas online, yet carried them unashamedly and theatrically into the real world too.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game

WAR had grown overnight to become the gamers' primary virtual world. It was the next generation MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role playing game). Its emphasis at all times was to put its members into the virtual scenes where they could transact every day worldly commerce alongside living out their extraordinary fantasies.

WAR had taken gaming to the 'next level' and overnight collapsed its competitors by bringing down the servers from which they ran. It then went on to win the public's enthusiasm with real life incentives that paid actual money.

Shopping malls interacted with virtual requests - where you could order a pizza from the Zenith Master and it would actually arrive minutes later. Folk could go to their favourite mall, and find their preferred store, walking through virtual aisles, trying on avatar clothes, paying for them with virtual money. All, with a same day delivery. Energy credits bought gamers real life discounts, bringing tangible incentives to the game.

Council meetings were now held within WAR's virtual Civic Halls, and people attended without ever leaving their homes - they could vote from anywhere in the world.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Goober & the Ghost-Cat

Goober took his assignment with Jet twenty-four hours around the clock; which still left him another twenty-four back in his own realm to rest in between the worldly days he watched over him.

He never felt himself to be subservient to Puck - he simply loved him as a brother- and if Puck thought something important enough to do, then he thought it too.

Both  followed Jet everywhere. It was a curious sight to watch them - Jet scurried about in his full army greens, always busy with something unless sleeping; whilst Goober (who was taller, and invisible of course) literally stood over him. At their feet the cat held back a few paces behind; who since being suffocated seemed to have nowhere else to go. 

Without being able to see him Jet could still feel the brush of his ghost-fur swipe his shins whenever he sat down, and this unnerved him terribly.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series