The Conspires of Fate

The true meaning of the phrase 'blue bloods' was never derogatory but given for those of the dead who chose to be born again into the very line of heraldry they had lived in before.

And within the earlier histories it was knowledge of this that brought the people to respect their reigning sovereigns as having an entitlement that predeceased them: they were accepted as actually being the original kings, who returned to yet a new body and a further generation - a kind of generational regeneration, so to say.

Some mortals retained their memories, of the conspires of fate that had carried them through the centuries ... of their lifetimes of living and dying, to then return once more.

It seemed that the recall was the strongest in those souls who kept to their lineage, rather than for those who ventured into a birth of relative obscurity.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Tulip Time in England

It was Tulip time in England and with the Spring came the tourists also. The pulse of London could be measured by its population.

Puck had settled into a large home in Knightsbridge, which was familiar to him, as he had lived in exactly the same residence some four hundred years before. He missed the folk who had moved on and recognised the dear souls who had rebirthed their way back. Many had returned to their familiar family and location as before.

The Peerage comprised of those mortal spirits who did not venture away from their own race, kin or kind but preferred to continuously reincarnate into the same family over and over again.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Holy Sanctuary in Puerco

The window's portal at Goober's apartment had delivered all three into a holy sanctuary in Puerco, a small town in the South Americas - where people prayed to the spirits beyond, and the spirits of Biff, Bart and Jobe would answer them daily.

At first all three had assumed that Puck would arrive sometime to collect them, but after the first year when he had not appeared, they just settled into their new environment quite comfortably.

As spirits, they found the atmosphere of the Temple soothing to be in. They could smell the incense, see the flickering flames from candles lit there, and feel the flowers shine with their glowing auras of opulent color. They could even taste the feasts that were left out on the altar in dedication to them.

It was a particularly nice place to be, especially after going through Hell - and, they thought it way more preferable to the cramped conditions of Goober's place, though they did miss their friends there considerably.

Every now and then one of the worshippers would actually see into the ethers and catch sight of the men looking back at them. These visions brought greater numbers to the chapel, and on holy days the congregants spilled outside, praying on the grass.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Baby Cactus

Puck looked over to where Goober and Pepper sat playing with a baby cactus that skittled backwards and forwards across the living room floor.

As cute as it was, it would crawl up into a ball and roll really fast, somersault upwards a foot or so off the ground, and then bounce down harder again. Playing to the attention this gave, this spiky little fellow was moving faster and faster, rolling over to where Puck sat.

With one rambunctious leap he flew up onto Puck's lap and speared him in the groin.

"What the fk!" he yelled jumping up and pulling it off his pants, startling the baby into tears.

Minutes later the infant was cheerful again and aiming for the other two. Puck had awakened from his malaise and felt ready to get back into his work again. He was back.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Thoughts Alone are Potent Writs of Becoming

Puck had always looked to the goodness of Men and believed, as he had seen, that it almost always shone through when given the chance.

But with so many gamers attacking his persona, all he could take in was the intention of insult coming his way and this was derisive to his optimism and demeaning to his courage.

Thoughts alone are potent writs of becoming.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Mood was Grim

Puck's hair had slowed its growing, the distress had worn him down. Even though he was ageless, his energy was very low. Partly this was due to a depleted morale, yet mostly because of the effect the thousands of gamers had on his vitality, disturbing his psyche by targeting him daily and blasting him with their virtual weapons. Puck was sensitive to the thoughts of others and this attention was powerfully destructive.

Pepper's own hair had blanched to a strawberry blonde in empathy for her brother. Her days were filled with working on deliveries for the farm and helping out where she could. She was hopeful for a holiday some time soon.

The mood was grim. Puck saw the human world through only dark glasses and he was horrified. Demons were everywhere riding on the backs of men - literally these invisible wraiths suckled the vitality of desires, feeding from the demise of the mortals that bore them. Scrawny ghouls fixed themselves to the unaware souls, who behaved in turn, very badly. Manners and morals faded from importance. Power and standing became supreme.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Three out of Four Citizens

Goober was managing the seed bank and had difficulty in recent days with the Opiate Goonies - a family of dark beings who were standing over him continuously, urging the farm to distribute their stock. Both Puck and Goober agreed that they did not want this association - but the Opiates were too far gone to hear their refusal.

The Empire of WAR had tripled its holdings and now  everywhere were registered members. WAR had become increasingly accepted and identification stringers had replaced passports, making citizenship global.

The World Parliament began from a consolidation of countries that took fiscal responsibility to decide refugee migrations, resource allocations, and debt. However, the humanitarian concerns were traded for commercial profits, when WAR management bought their way into the system and the moral high ground sank quickly, alongside those lands sodden with flood.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series