Tailored for their Hungry Audience

Phoenix WAR2 had successfully overtaken the market, far surpassing the traffic and membership of its first series.

The incentives and epic scenarios were tailored for their hungry audience - a people who were starved for entertainment and stimulation - nourished from childhood on diets of action, and sophisticated cartooning.

The pleasure of these fantasies took over from their real world connect - the synapses sparked and controllers flipped - and although tedious to the Fey, this world was overwhelming to the minds of men.

The possibilities were so extravagantly contrived, and the graphics used such an emotive pitch and palette that proved addictive. The entire experience worked subliminal latitude, by its very consistency reinforcing itself over and over into the eager and anticipating minds - who could never now conceive a world without it.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

They had secured the Cow

"How the hell did we end up here?"

"I wish you wouldn't say that” Biff winced. He still had his experience of Hell firmly fixed in his mind, and would go cold all over if anybody so much as mentioned it.

Bart understood where he was coming from - it was all too raw a subject for him too.

They had secured the cow (who could see them) and were leading her up through the crowded streets with Perizadeh walking beside. She did not know of them being there, only of Puck who had eventually worked out a deal, which turned out to be very simple, for all she really wanted was a guaranteed passage into the United States.

He would do his level best, and work out the details further down the road.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Child of the World

"We need Perizadeh to bring you her cow" Puck explained, "so that we may buy it. We cannot simply take it dishonestly - there has to be a bargaining - a fair transaction - and we will pay whatever she needs."

"But what is so special about this cow the hotel maid owns?" asked Jobe wonderingly - he did not really believe that they had come all this way just for an animal.

"It has grazed on the grass grown from the pure seed of the Old World - and its milk is still the sweetest on this planet today."

"But surely when the cow leaves her pastures the milk will change?" Eric asked and then added, "why not just import the grass?"

"Because no other animal can tolerate it,” Puck answered thoughtfully - "we will be bringing in the grass and its seed too - but that is the easy part - we need the cow as well."

"And what is to be done with the milk once we have it?" asked Biff, who had been sleeping in the sun all this time, waiting for lunch.

"We are to feed it to the child of course."

"And what infant is that?" asked Bart, who also was waiting for lunch, excited now about finally having a task to fulfil.

"He is the Child of the World, and dwells at the very centre of it. He is in need of the milk. The order came through nigh a week ago."

"By order, do you mean that someone commanded this?" Goober asked jokingly - who had just landed in mid conversation.

"No" said Puck flatly, "an order through our seed-farm".

"I did not know that this child existed other than in mythology ... wouldn't he have fully grown by now?"

"No, not as yet" Puck answered, and then added, "that is what the nutrition of this milk is for".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Festival of the Lights

It was the Festival of the Lights and they all sat outside amongst the flags and streamers that murmured in the gentle wind. Every now and then a devotee would pass by them on the way inside to pray - each had an aura of solemnity and holiness.

Eric, Marley's father, was especially fond of these pious people. They had soothed his soul when he had needed it. And even though they had come to the Chapel for consolation, unknowingly they also gave it to the spirits of three dejected men, who in their past had been so restless and very troubled.

One person in particular - a cleaning woman for a city hotel - would come and stay over once a month, sleeping just inside the alcove behind the statue of Mary. She could not afford to pay for a bed anywhere within the town and felt safest hidden at night in amidst the incense and the candles.

Her name was Perizadeh, but that word sounded like a dangerous fish to Eric, so he nicknamed her to himself as Mandy. She had dark skin and wore silver bells, florid stripes and the same dress every time he had seen her. He suspected that this was her best dress, and it did look very charming.

Eric loved the feelings he experienced when he was close by her. She of course, had no idea just how close he would get sometimes. He would watch her as she sat deeply in prayer and all he could see was a soul that had barely any expectations of them ever being answered. It was as though she were running on empty, yet going a long way all the same, just to get through each day.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

"Candlemas Day (the Christian festival of lights )
2nd February is Candlemas Day. This ancient festival marks the midpoint of winter, halfway between the shortest day and the spring equinox. Candlemas is a traditional Christian festival that commemorates the ritual purification of Mary forty days after the birth of her son Jesus."

"In pre-Christian times, this day was known as the 'Feast of Lights' and celebrated the increase strength of the life-giving sun as winter gave way to spring."

His Mind went to Azlan

"If Azlan himself could have done anything more to help people see the truth more clearly, wouldn't he have done it by now already without you having to ask him? Maybe you dreamt this meeting with him and it was just a fantasy from your tiring mind and nothing else, my dear Robin?" (Robin was a familiar, friendly name given to Puck, who used to share his tree-house with the species and loved them fondly.)

"Well then" answered Puck somewhat belligerently, "where did the glasses come from in the first place, and with them, their power to multiply themselves? Besides - I know what I know - and it was him I tell you. One day you will have the privilege to take his counsel also, like I did. To stand before him Goober is something you do not forget or get wrong ... his eyes see so far into your soul - if you can do this, you too will just know."

"Well I am just saying that a fact is a fact and most of the players we posted to have thrown them away by now, yet kept the Phoenix issue."

Puck tapped the table trying to regulate his thought.

His mind went to Azlan - and the answer came:

"They can see what is in front of them - they have always been able to - but for some insanity unknown, they are preferring not to."

And then it was that Puck knew what he had to do - he reached into his satchel, drew out the golden envelope and put his own pair on.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Legend has it that when Jesus was dying on the cross, the robin, then simply brown in colour, flew to his side and sang into his ear in order to comfort him in his pain. The blood from his wounds stained the robin's breast, and thereafter all robins got the mark of Christ's blood upon them.

An alternative legend has it that its breast was scorched fetching water for souls in Purgatory.

Word on the Wire

Word on the wire was that something big was about to go down.

The birds' feathers had been ruffled for a week and they were squabbling constantly; the wasps and gnats were aggressively over-defensive; and seas were arcing up while the storms were all heading inland. The earth had started to craze where the pressure was impeding; the dogs were biting and the cats were clawing; the fruit just refused to ripen; and shopping bags were tearing.

Mould was advancing, ageing bread in just a day, and children were complaining, while the grown-ups were acting like children. The milk had all soured, and a bag of crisps was packed only half full, in these troubled days.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Frank-'n-sense

Nervina produced the blue truth powder - although not all of it, as he had decanted the purchase into two jars, just in case they later needed a back up.

It was a rich indigo color - you could have painted the Madonna's cloak with it: a virtuous compound that compelled one to speak frankly, and with commonsense. Nervina like to call it humorously Frank-'n-sense.

"You look tragic today,” he observed out loud, "what for?"
Puck was in no mood to explain himself to someone in a good mood. He stared into the glass at the Frank-'n-sense, that fell heavily from side to side when he shook it.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series