Oiling his Antlers

When Marley walked in on Marsden, she found two young women oiling his antlers.

This time the stag-headed creature was no temporary vision. The sight of him was plain to see, and he was seated on the side of a black marble spa (the style of the five star hotel was lavish Italian Renaissance) in the enormous bathroom adjacent to their suite.

She had not heard anyone entering their apartment earlier - however the two semi-clothed women stood there beside him stroking and rubbing his horns.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

A Meditation Room & an Enormous Bath

Everyone had said what a sad Puck he was ...

He felt like a failure: his cow still gave no milk; two of his companions had gone missing; the girl he was enamoured with, was dating the bane of his life, who, was currently succeeding in a world take-over. 

Admissions into Hell were still rising and the numbers of the 'fallen' were increasing too (the ones who never make it out of the Abyss).

Dismay was strangling any hope that he had left. Puck had even stopped finding mirth in Goober's quips about the little cat that still tailed him.

He needed a plan - or maybe a holiday - or both. It was difficult to stay focused when he already felt so defeated. Perhaps he had been living with ghosts for too long?

First enterprise was to find another tree-house - one with a meditation room and an enormous bath. A place to do some serious thinking in.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

They must have been Mortal Children

The next thing he realized was that the ground did not feel firm at all beneath his feet. But this was just a feeling, he told himself. Where on earth was Nervina?

He heard a noise come from behind him and turned to see that it was a man in uniform running up fast towards where he stood.

He felt sick and then faint - this was not turning out to be a great day.

Just before the fellow had caught up to him, he heard the cracking sound of a shot firing and with that, an explosion - the man crumpled at his feet vaporising right before his eyes.

To his left Brogan could hear the sound of laughing.

"Yes!" a young voice had called out, whooping some more.

Brogan instinctively shot a glance to where the voice had come from, to see a glass window in one of the courtyard walls. Going up closer he saw two faces looking through from behind. They appeared to be only children.

His curiosity led him right up to that window and he peered through. Two boys, around the ages of eight and ten were staring back but did not seem to acknowledge his looking at them. Brogan was very used to not being seen these days and supposed that this was one of those times. They must have been mortal children who, like most of them, lacked the ghost vision to see him.

Both boys had chip packets on their laps, and were jumping up and down on what seemed to be a couch, showering crumbs, sitting in a living room with a TV running in the background.

He stood and watched them for a while. They seemed happy. One started wrestling the other; trying to grab hold of something from his hand ... it was a game controller.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Continuum Lived in Him

There was someone moving from behind the stone wall - they did not show themselves.

Brogan jumped. His nerves had not been the same, ever since he had been murdered – he had trust issues and some residual anxiety.

Edging slowly away, he tried to figure out where he was exactly, and how he had got there - and, for that matter, where had Nervina got to?

Of course he knew he was fine and would always be so. He did realize how life goes on, with himself amongst it, wherever he was in the Cosmos. There were good days when he felt impenetrable, and the continuity of consciousness that death does bring. Continuum lived in him. And yet, a sudden shock or change bothered him terribly.

This place was uncannily different – he could see it from the first. All of the colors seemed brighter for one thing - whilst oddly, there was no smell. Funny thing, you can live with smells all around you and not really think about their presence, but their absence indicates a sterile environment, one that bears no life whatsoever.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

It's Like in the Great Stories Mr. Frodo

Frodo : I can't do this, Sam.
Sam : I know. It's all wrong.
By rights we shouldn't even be here.
But we are.
It's like in the great stories Mr. Frodo.
The ones that really mattered.
Full of darkness and danger they were,
and sometimes you didn't want to know the end.
Because how could the end be happy.
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.
But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow.

Even darkness must pass.
A new day will come.
And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.

Those were the stories that stayed with you.
That meant something.
Even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand.
I know now.
Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going, because they were holding on to something.

Frodo : What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam : That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

~ J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, (movie version)

Lady Marthorn with the Afternoon Teas

"Bro" muttered Nervina in a rather low and thoughtful voice, "I think I've found a way in."

Brogan got up from his screen and went over to see what Nervina was talking about.

Just then there was a knock at the door - it was Lady Marthorn with the afternoon teas.

Nervina pointed to the cursor, as its heartbeat flashed over a small golden key just won, completing his final level. As he clicked on it, there came a loud humming in the room and the two felt themselves dissolving into space.

Lady Marthorn entered, and found no one present. She simply put the tray onto the desk and carried out the emptied teacups, closing the door behind.

Meanwhile, somewhere in a castle, the humming died down and Nervina looked around astonished at the outcome.

"We did it!", Nervina grinned.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

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