Phoenix Rising

Phoenix Rising had Trojans and back hollows through which its hierarchy monitored their members continuously.

Electronic demons work more efficiently than any human clerks can do - for they do not sleep and their surveillance is keen. The moods of the mortals online were recorded, assessing anxiety spikes throughout the game.

Phoenix worked in the presumption that algorithms of thought could be altered very effectively at those times when emotions peaked - and that thinking was influenced successfully by introducing suggestions during those micro-periods of elevated tension, which came throughout the game.

Subliminal tags would flash at moments of high emotion, and in the space within a single heartbeat, their product preferences would infill an opened mind.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Master of Mishap

Puck was paying the Master Kybosh to work his magic on some thugs he had come across in a small village of Africa. They had been extorting their community and torturing the children.

Puck himself rarely did anything nasty to anyone; he much preferred putting the Kybosh onto them if he thought that their actions were insufferable. Problem was, Kybosh’s influence was only ever transitory – it had a record of things turning back the way they were not very long after his interference.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Grand Master Rufus Kybosh

"For the love of Puck!" Rufus retorted ... 

"Expletives are not, I repeat not, meant for ordinary incantations!"

"What are you going on about?" asked Rybold, a junior assistant dwarf to the Grand Master Rufus Kybosh - who was best known for his grand triple interference in the year 1211 when he managed to create strife across two continents for three consecutive days, when everything and anything kept going horribly wrong.

He was also known for his very bad temper when crossed. Rybold was yet to learn of his wrath, but every assistant before him had ended up in knots.

"Swearing, my boy, releases the power of the spell and draws the life from it prematurely. One must never invoke with a passionate tone, else the drama will repeat directly on oneself."

Rybold had no understanding of what was meant by this, but thought it best to nod accordingly.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

I give you my Heart

It was raining in Faerieland ... big drops would pop when they bumped onto the ground or impaled against a spiky branch, to then expire a fine mist all around. No actual water came from it; just some refreshing energetic mist that exhaled a living ether.

Brogan went to the door expecting another tray-o'-muffins but instead he found a small parcel with a card attached. There is always great excitement around a parcel - any parcel - no matter how unimpressive its wrapping.

Puck was still finishing his supper and motioned Nervina to attend to it.

Inside the cardboard carton sat a smaller box that was lined with red tissue paper. And inside that box lay a bloodless human heart - still soft, and therefore not recently separated from its once living host. It looked grey and exhausted.

"Marsden" said Nervina, tossing the boxes and contents into the rubbish chute abruptly.

They all knew this to be right for the Fey could see his trace-markers, his living signature, still within it.

"But who actually sent it?" asked Marley repulsed by the sight and thought of it being there, actually with them.

"Marsden" said Nervina.
Goober explained: "Must have been pretty close by, jumping from one body to another like that. Did you read the card?"

Nervina winced. “I forgot to look for a card – hurled it into the garbage just then.” He looked uncomfortable, adding – “the compactor would have turned it to mulch by now.”

"What do you think it might have said?" It was anybody's guess.

"I give you my heart?" said Puck ruefully, "I'm having cheesecake, anyone else?"

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Evening News

Marsden was dead. His body was laying face up staring at a starlit sky. In his hand was a long knife - which by all appearance he had used to repeatedly stick himself with before bleeding out on his patio.

Forensics could not prove that he had inflicted the wounds on himself, were it not for the security camera that had recorded the minutes of him holding the blade and turning its point towards his chest and gashing the flesh until gravity took him.

It did not seem that he was frenzied or depressed - he just did it.

Puck and crew first heard about it happening during the late edition evening news.

"That is so disturbing" Nervina softly said as he passed the salad over to Marley who had got in late.

"Too right it is" said Puck quietly back.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Twelve Months Late

The door opened and in walked Nervina and Brogan- twelve months late but their timing could not have been better.

Marley had not seen Brogan until this moment and was astounded - she almost thought to herself that he was alive again - he looked so well.

"Brogan!" Marley yelled happily and put both her arms around him in a big theatrical hug. He took a step back, slightly perplexed.

Brogan hardly remembered who she was now, let alone who she might have been to him.

The reason for his vagueness was twofold. Firstly he had no recall because nothing really happened between them, in his lifetime just passed; and secondly, all that led up to his homicide was now blurred, for Puck had helped him to forget everything that occurred during and just after the ordeal.

Marley on the other hand had been torn apart to read those final reports of his forlorn dumping and decayed remains. And so to see him stand beside her looking better than ever was remarkable. He looked so normal - well, almost.

Puck moved forward and embraced the two of them, relieved also to see how well they both fared.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Demeaned by Beans

"Beans! You traded me for beans!"

"It wasn't like that... and who told you anyway?" said Puck, now agitated that he was in trouble for doing something right. 

"Who do you think told me? - it was Goober doing the inventory". .. "That's hardly the point! ... beans?" she glared her strongest glare.

Marley felt crushed. It wasn't so much that Marsden was back trying to cause trouble again, her upset chiefly lay in the thought that the tradeoff might have involved bags of gold or something more significant than just beans. She felt demeaned. Demeaned by beans.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series