Hello reader! My name is Puck. I'm the cutest and smartest and most great pooka in the whole wide world. I am also horribly scandalized in many way shapes and forms in far too many stories the world over. Like that whole Midsummer thing that Silly Willy wrote up? He made me a man, can you believe that? Well, what with April Fool's day rolling around and stuff I thought it was high time Thor got around to writing a story that will truly show how great I am! Thus I allowed him to listen in as I told one of my stories the way it should be told...by me! Thor then wrote up this little piece that showcases just how little talent he truly has. Luckily for you my mere presence saves the entire story ;-) Also...if any of you dare to review and suggest even once that I am less cute, smart, great, amazing, or wonderful then anything else then I will show up in the middle of the night and coat your feet with strawberry jam (you have been warned). Okay, Thor is telling me that's all the time I get to "corrupt your minds with my propoganda" so therefore I suggest you just read on...my greatness shall speak for itself...
How to Be A Hero (In Six Easy Lessons): A Tale of Detroit
Lesson 1: When Pookas and Problems Collide
All of a sudden there shined a shimmery demon,
In the middle of the road.
And he said; play the best song in the world,
Or I'll eat your souls.
Well me and Kyle,
We looked at each other,
And we each said...okay.
-Tenacious D, "The Greatest Song in the World"
Twilight capered through the winding path of the park. The bronzed skin of his bare chest glinted in the early morning light. His young muscles shifted and flexed as he ran. His tousled black hair bounced around his brightly beaming face. His dark eyes twinkled slightly as he sprinted down an incline and easily sprang over a narrow brook of bubbling water. His cloven hooves clattered slightly on the stones, but he simply laughed and ran all the faster. The black hair coating his horse legs was slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Small flashes of purple and green were highlighted by the dappled rays of sun peering through the trees above. The young satyr ran for the pure pleasure of the action. The crisp air flowed around him as he ran along the edge of the stream.
"By my beard!!!" Twilight skidded to a stop upon hearing the wild bellow. He twisted his head about curiously. "I curse the day I ever met you!!!" Twilight blinked in surprise as he recognized the voice. Arienkel, the sidhe sage and advisor of Lady Ayloshia. The sidhe was an imposing and wise figure in court. Twilight's bushy eyebrows cocked upward in wonderment. What had made the esteemed and distinguished sage so upset?
"Whatsa matter big nose? You got your staff back." Twilight's face split into a wide grin, his teeth flashing as he suddenly sprinted towards the sound of the voices. He recognized the singsong and high pitched tone of the second speaker. Puck! And where the famed pooka trickster and venerable sage met, it was sure to be a worthwhile event. An event Twilight didn't intend to miss.
"That's not the point! My staff is not a fishing pole!!!" Twilight leapt and dashed through the trees. His eyes danced along the riverbed as he moved. Suddenly he caught a brief flash of vibrant teal and red. A bright red shirt, and loose teal pants, a color combination that only Puck would wear. He slid to a stop amidst a cloud of leaves and dust. He leaned down and peered through a concealing layer of branches.
"But I could have sworn that's how you use it." Puck clasped her hands together in front of her chest, a look of wounded shock on her small rounded face. Her hair, which was comprised of a series of fine purple, blue, and green feathers, stood slightly on end as she bowed her head. "After all, as the symbol of your office you're always dangling it in front of other nobles..." Punk glanced up, her multicolored eyes glinting as she smirked. She wriggled her small beak-like nose and suddenly grinned. "...and then they go and snap up the bait! What a fisherman you must be!"
"You...you...you...POOKA!" Arienkel stood in the middle of the brook. His long silver robes were soaking wet and stained with mud. His long white beard was bedraggled and filled with burrs. His normally wise and calm eyes burned with anger, his face flushed red. His hands tightly gripped his golden staff of office. A string was twined round the end, a hook attached to it. As Twilight watched a few eager fish half sprang from the water in an attempt to snag the gleaming lure. "I'll have you know I...I never...if you...you...POOKA!"
"Oh, I'm sorry big nose. Didn't mean to upset you. It was only a joke."
"Your 'jokes' fail to amuse me." Arienkel grabbed the sodden hem of his robes and pulled it up over his knees as he sloshed for shore. "If you so wish to offer some sort of political commentary there are better ways." Puck shrugged and nodded, she stepped up to the edge and offered her hand to help him up. Arienkel sneered at her and ignored the offered hand. "The day I seek your help is the day I shall allow myself to dye my beard blue!" He started to scramble up the side of the riverbed, digging his staff into the mud to help him.
As he lowered the staff one of the fish snagged the hook. Arienkel cursed as his arm was tugged out wide by the action. His eyes widened in shock as the fish pulled hard, jerking him off balance. His pale legs wobbled about wildly. His arms waved in the air, his staff hissing about him. The line was dragged through the air madly, the fish being carried along for the ride. With a cry of helpless frustration he tipped over backwards and splashed back into the water. The fish landed on top of him and flopped about till it plopped back into the water.
"Aw c'mon big nose. My help can be...helpful and stuff. Don't you remember that time I saved the city?" If Arienkel did he offered no comment, instead he glowered at her as he sat up, water streaming off him. Puck shrugged and stuck out her tongue. "Well I did..."
"You did no such thing," snarled Arienkel. "You simply created a problem that..." Suddenly the sage's eyes grew wide and he sprang to his feet with a yelp. There was a startled croak as a overly curious frog was sent bouncing out from under Arienkel's robes. Twilight could restrain himself no longer and suddenly erupted into a wild fit of laughter. His muscular shoulders shaking. His right hoof rhythmically stomping on the ground with dull clops. Both Arienkel and Puck spun around at the sound. The pooka's face splitting into an even wider smile, the sidhe's growing yet redder.
"Hey Twilight," said Puck cheerily as she waved at him.
"Hullo," he managed around his cries of mirth.
"Fools all, I cry for tomorrow if this is any gauge of the youth of today!" So saying Arienkel turned and splashed noisily out of the stream. He didn't even respond when Puck wished him happy fishing back at court. As the enraged sidhe disappeared into the woods Puck turned to grin at Twilight.
"So what are you doing out here all alone?"
"Just out for a run," he shrugged and then peeked up at her shyly through his tousled black hair. "Is it true what you said? About saving the city?" Puck smirked as she turned and lightly scampered up into a tree.
"Sure it is, why wouldn't it be?"
"Wow, what happened?" Twilight eagerly rushed up to the base of the tree and stared eagerly up at Puck. The pooka glanced down at him as she reclined lazily in the bough of the branch. Twilight clasped his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. "Pleeeeease Puck. Please tell me the story!" Twilight and most of the other childlings had long ago decided that Puck told the best stories, even if most of the other adult Changelings insisted they contained as many holes as Swiss cheese.
"Well, I suppose if you really wanted to hear it..."
"Yes, yes, please!" Puck nodded and grinned as she nestled back comfortably into the tree. One of her hands fished into her pocket and pulled out a small yellow plastic pipe which she promptly crammed into her mouth.
"Very well then my young charge," she said in a dead on imitation of Arienkel about to tell an important lesson. Twilight laughed as Puck waggled her eyebrows at him. "I was able to save the city by following the six simple, and brilliant lessons which have been passed down to us by Lord Dustybottoms. Whom I happen to have known personally. Yes, yes, the sidhe are great and wise and so was Lord Dirtybackside. Not as wise as I though, hrumph, hrumph." Puck held up her hand and raised a finger. "The first rule is, and remember this as all good Changelings should memorize all sorts of pointless drivel. The first rule is; A hero notices stuff."
Robin Goodfellow, Detroit librarian by night, pooka trickster whenever, shuffled through the papers on the table. She appeared a quite ordinary woman. Her short brown hair was slightly wild and hung unhindered around her small face. A few freckles dotted her small button nose. She was dressed in a simple off-white blouse and a ankle length black skirt. A pair of round glasses perched on the tip of her nose, she peered through them carefully. Her face screwed up in a look of intense concentration.
She again issued a silent curse to whatever kids had thought it would be funny to pour out half of the card catalogs onto the floor. Her nimble fingers danced along the yellowing cards, sorting them by letter. She muttered in annoyance as she received yet another paper-cut. As she was sucking on her injured finger a sudden shadow fell across her. Robin frowned as she glanced up, it was rare for anyone to be able to sneak up on her.
Looming over her was a man in a black suit. His face was plain and unremarkable. He was of average height and build. His brown hair was of average length, neither long or short. His face was strong, but not particularly or noticeably so. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses. All in all he was the sort of person you would hardly notice in a crowd and easily forget afterwards. Which was exactly the image he strove for. He crossed his arms over his chest as he glared down at her. Robin sighed and batted her eyes at him.
"Is there something I can help you with Rikard?" Vencel Rikard. He was one of the most unusual allies the fae had in all Detroit. He was a mage, and not just any mage, he had at one time been a member of the Technocracy. As a Man In Black it had been his job to hunt down reality deviants and hide their existence from the mortal populace. Reality deviants being anything the Technocracy deemed improper. That had included Changelings. However, through the brilliant plans of Puck, and maybe some others, Rikard had been shown the truth and changed his views on the world. Now he worked to help the fae and...
"Wait a second," said Twilight in confusion. "I heard that it was Lady Ayloshia who taught Rikard the truth of the Dreaming. Isn't she the one who realized that he might have had the heart of a dreamer? Weren't you just following orders?" Puck glanced down at him. Her cheeks puffed out slightly as a few bubbles sprayed from the end of her yellow bubble pipe.
"Maybe. I mean, who can keep all these facts in order? Yes. It was a long time ago after all. I've been sick. No. You probably heard wrong. It's a mystery. Ayloshia did it I guess. I could have forgotten. Maybe Rikard told someone a strange story about how it happened." She turned away from him and shrugged. "There, that ought to answer your question. Now, where was I?"
"I've come for that information you promised to find me," said Rikard dourly. Robin shrugged and motioned to the piles of cards around her.
"Sorry, I've been a bit busy.
"I asked you for it four days ago."
"Oh those kids mess with the cards every night," she muttered as she returned to sorting. Rikard leaned down and grabbed Robin's shirt. He pulled her up slightly from her chair.
"I need it. Now!"
"Well, since you ask so nicely." Robin untangled herself from Rikard's grasp and rushed back over to her desk. She shuffled through the drawers until she found a small sheaf of papers. "Here! I can't believe I ever agreed to go hunting through city records for you. That sort of thing makes me want to gouge out my eyes to end the pain."
"I'm sure I appreciate your sacrifice," he said dully as he took the papers. He looked down and flipped through them quickly. After a few seconds he handed them back with a nod. "Thanks, I've memorized them, you can put them back now." Robin looked down at the papers, her eyebrows rising in surprise. Then a slow smirk spread over her face as she looked up at Rikard's retreating back.
"Hey! Did I happen to mention your payment?"
A few minutes later Rikard sat at the table flipping through the cards. His face was fixed with a look of concentration as he quickly separated them into piles. Robin cheerfully sat at her desk, her feet up, and a partially eaten banana in her hand.
"What's this all about anyway," she mumbled around a mouthful of banana so that it sounded more like; Wah's tis all abo't any'ay. Rikard didn't even pause in his rapid sorting.
"I told you already. I'm investigating those strange deaths that have been happening. The deaths that occur at midnight once every week, each victim showing no signs of why they died. I know it has to be some sort of magical ritual. I suspect the dark forces that control the Technocracy." Puck rolled her eyes. Ever since Rikard had been shown that demons had infected the hierarchy of his previous organization he had suspected those same creatures of every ill that befell the city.
"Maybe they just had heart attacks," she offered with a shrug.
"No. Don't you pay attention to the newspapers? The police don't have a clue, but I figured it out. Each death is taking place as part of a pattern. A pattern that coincides with the old Smeltaine rail line that used to run through the city. So far the murderer has struck at the sites of the old rail house, and the houses of all the major investors. I suspect he'll strike tonight at the site of the president's former home."
"Really?" Robin chewed on her mouthful of banana thoughtfully. "But you have no idea how the killings are happening?"
"None. I do have a idea for a lead though. An old 'friend' who works for The Office. He'd be just the sort of person who would know all about this mess. I was hoping to talk to him before I had to go and watch over the probable murder site." Robin hopped to her feet and rushed over to him, her eyes twinkling in glee.
"Let me help Rikard. You know I could help. You could talk to your friend, and I could-"
"No." Rikard stood up and nodded at the neat rows of stacked cards. "There, I've done your chore." He turned towards the door and started to walk out, then paused and frowned back over his shoulder at her. "Don't get involved in this. Your 'help' has a tendency of making a bad situation worse."
"Gasp!" Robin clutched at her chest, pretending to have stabbed herself with the banana. "I am wounded, how little you must think of me."
"I just don't need a monkey in the works...no offense meant." Rikard nodded at her as he turned and walked out of the library. Robin crossed her arms and frowned as she watched him go. As soon as he was out of sight she giggled as she turned around and grabbed up the research he had made her do. She quickly found the address where the house had once been. The area was now little more then a series of worn tenements.
"Monkey see..." she whispered, "...monkey do some investigating and stuff!" Their was a brief flash of light and smoke. Where once had stood the plain and nondescript librarian Robin Goodfellow, now stood...Puck! Her multicolored eyes glinted mischievously as she checked over her garb to make sure it was a good stealth outfit. Bright yellow suspenders, red beanie cap, black polka-dotted green pants, a blue shirt, and orange sneakers. Yep, she was wearing sneakers! The better to sneak with. She laughed as she grabbed her banana and rushed off. She climbed to the roof of the library and started to map out her course. If first she went west then...
"Booooring," moaned Twilight. "Shouldn't a hero be beating up bad guys?"
"Well," sniffed Puck. "As great as my skipping over rooftops is. I suppose you'd rather hear about what Rikard did with that guy he knew? Think about it. A careful description of how I capered...or Rikard."
"Is there action and guns with Rikard?"
"Weeeell. Yes..."
"Rikard!"
Rikard walked up the stairs and down the balcony hallway. He stopped in front of the door and peered over the balcony and down into the parking lot below. No one was around. It hadn't taken him too long on a computer to track down Koontz. The man had been one of the best temporal analyzers in the whole Office. His skills at predicting and figuring future events out was only surpassed by his ability to consume doughnuts and coffee. Of course, that meant if he just knocked Koontz would probably know it was somebody dangerous...and take the appropriate action.
He pulled open his black suit's jacket and reached into one of the interior pockets. He pulled out a pair of wires and quietly knelt down. He carefully inserted them into the lock and twisted them about slowly. Then he nodded as he stood and knocked twice. He stepped to the side of the door while covering up the peephole. The hallway of the motel was silent. The distant night sounds were soft and muted. He heard the approach of feet. They paused as the figure took time to peer through the peephole. Rikard waited as he heard the fumbling, then a soft click. Rikard pulled back his arm and reached into his coat. Three deafening shots echoed loudly in the quiet night. Three holes were blown through the door.
Rikard quickly reached down and swung the door swiftly inward. He knew that Koontz would have leaned forward to try to peer through the holes in the wood. There was a sharp crack as the door connected with the man's face. Rikard burst through the door, his gun snapped up to sight in on the man. Koontz was as overweight as Rikard remembered. He was dressed only in a pair of white boxers and black socks. One of his hands clutched at his bloody face, the other held a .45 automatic. Rikard quickly kicked out, the toe of his shoe catching the bundle of nerves just above the elbow. Koontz's arm jerked spasmodically, the gun flipping out of his numb grasp.
"Oh God! Don't kill me!"
"Funny, you always told me there was no such thing as a god." Rikard quickly slammed the door shut. Koontz looked up in surprise. His bloody features splitting into a hopeful grin.
"Rikard? I thought you were dead."
"You thought wrong." Rikard reached out and shoved Koontz back onto the rumpled bed that filled most of the small room. He pointed his pistol at Koontz's face. "I need answers. What's the story behind the Smeltaine murders?"
"Those? Hell if I know. I hear that Agent Darke's squad was checking into it. My office figured a seventy-four percent probability that at least one R.D. was involved in the killings. The ritualistic issues of it being a notable tip off." Rikard watched Koontz carefully as he spoke. His eyes had moved slightly upward before speaking, but then stayed steady. His upper lip wasn't sweaty. His breathing had remained constant. Rikard frowned as he slipped his pistol back under his jacket.
"The Office really isn't involved, is it?" Koontz shook his head, Rikard frowned. "What do you think the cause is?" Koontz chuckled and shook his head, his hanging jowels swaying slightly with the motion.
"Sorry Rikard, I'm not that crazy. You're damaged goods my friend. When they finally catch up to you..." Koontz let the words trail off, his eyes flicking about slightly. Rikard suddenly drew his gun again and pointed it at Koontz's face. He looked over to the corner where Koontz had glanced nervously. There was nothing there but a clock on a nightstand. The timer was a minute and a half slow. Rikard turned back slowly.
"You damn worm. You were just trying to keep me here, weren't you?" Koontz waved his hands slightly in the air and shrugged with a contented smirk.
"Well the timing was so good as to have been almost planned. I don't think I could ha-" Rikard's hand snapped out, chopping down hard onto Koontz's neck. The blubbery analyst jerked slightly in surprise, then his eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed with a squealing of springs onto the bed. Rikard shoved his gun back into its holster as he turned and stepped through the door. Even as he poked his head back into the hallway he saw them. Four figures walking towards the room. Three men, one woman. All dressed in black suits and sunglasses. Agent Darke and her team.
Agent Darke said nothing, her dusky face remaining calm and serene. But her hand flew under her coat and pulled out her pistol. So did her three men. Rikard knew that the logical and instinctive course of action would be to turn back into the room and seek an alternative escape route through the bathroom. Bullets smashed through glass and wood as the agents fired at the doorway, their shots timed to catch him as he leapt back into the apartment. However Rikard had known that Darke and her men had been given the same training he had and would have anticipated that reaction. Thus he'd kept his forward momentum and sprang forward over the railing of the balcony.
He allowed his feet to crumple beneath him as he landed on the cement below. He fell forward and dropped his shoulder as he began to roll. Three quick rolls later he was back on his feet and pulling his pistol out again. He ducked behind a car as Darke and her men fired at him. Their bullets ripping large holes in the little Camero. Rikard suddenly sprang up and leaped over towards another car. As he did he fired a quick and wild shot up at the group. As he landed behind a blue van Rikard heard the satisfying shout of pain from one of the figures.
"It's a minor injury Jones," snapped Darke, her voice carrying calmly over the tumult of the gunfight. "Move to the east end to spread out our fire arc. Agent Smith, get down there and circle the far side towards the entrance." Rikard cursed to himself as he heard the agents set off. He should have figured out Koontz had been up to something...he'd stopped struggling way too soon relative to the violence of his initial response. From the corner of his eye he saw Agent Smith slip out of the stairwell and peer around the corner. Above him he saw the crouched form of Agent Jones taking up his own position.
Rikard quickly did the unexpected. He stood up and started to fire. He moved fast, his gun blazing away at both Jones as well as Darke's position. The startled agents ducked for cover, Rkard took his chance and ran towards the street. By the time they started to fire again he was diving for cover behind the large, flashing neon sign that sat on the far end of the parking lot near the street. Bullets snapped around him and smashed into the sign. Sparks and shattered pieces of plastic and glass rained about him as he crouched down and shouted into his wrist radio.
"Ireane, emergency pickup!"
"Well there was a sudden roar and-"
"Who the heck is Ireane," demanded Twilight in annoyed confusion. "Is she his partner or something? You need to introduce these characters properly!" Puck sighed and glared down at him.
"I was about to explain that. She's his partner and his car." Twilight's brows furrowed in confusion at that remark, Puck sighed. "You see, I.R.E.A.N.E. stands for Intelligence Reasoning Electronic Automotive Nanotech conveyancE. I don't actually know what that means...but it's a special car that can talk and think for itself."
"Wow," said Twilight with a grin, "he's got a magic car? Rikard is the coolest!"
"Whatever," she said with a dismissive shrug. "But he was lucky to have her, cause Ireane can drive herself."
There was a sudden roar as a large black sedan suddenly sped down the street. The door seemed to spring open as the car skidded to a stop near Rikard's position. He quickly leapt forward and dove into the car. The door slammed shut behind him as bullets sparked off Ireane's armored plating. The engine roared again as Ireane quickly began to accelerate. Rikard pulled himself up and glanced back at the quickly receding motel. He shook his head in frustration as he fixed his tie.
"Good save Ireane," he said as he slid behind the wheel. He took over the driving and made a few random turns to help throw off any possible pursuit. He knew that Agent Darke was not the sort to let something like this go. Also, he suspected Koontz would encourage her to deal with him in a very final sense of the word. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. How could this investigation get any worse?
Puck walked along the dark back alleys of the slum. Her eyes cast back and forth as she looked around eagerly. However she was having little luck. There had been a pointed lack of laughing madmen with bloody knives. Or of screaming helpless victims convienently running towards her. Puck sighed as she pulled a fresh banana from her pocket and began to munch on it. This was really just becoming depressingly boring. And if there was one thing Puck hated, it was boredom.
There was a soft mewl as an alley cat slipped out of the darkness and padded along the pavement. Puck grinned at it and made a face. The gray and white cat peered at her suspiciously, it's ears dropping back along its head. Puck shrugged at it as she took another large bite out of her banana. The cat turned and leaped up onto a nearby bent, and ugly trash can. It peered down into the dark depths, its tail twitching slightly. Puck sighed as she turned away and popped the last of the banana into her mouth. There was a sudden loud cry from the cat that was abruptly cut short.
"What the heck?" Puck spun around and looked around the empty alley. The cat was nowhere to be seen. She cocked her head curiously. "Kitty? Hey kitty, kitty, kitty?" She walked forward as she looked for the cat. She approached the trash can and glanced into it. It was totally empty. She gripped the edges as she leaned over to look behind it.
That's when the trash can grabbed her. Puck squawked in surprise as cold, gray fingers seemed to form from the edges of the can. She was lifted upwards as broad and powerful yellowing teeth sprouted around the mouth of the trash can. She struggled and kicked as the can changed shape. Growing two squat legs, and a powerful barrel-chested body. The handles twisted out into jaggedly pointy ears. Two peering red eyes bulged up from the side of the can as it twisted to start forming a head. Black leather armor covered with wicked looking barbs started to sprout over the figure. An incredibly deep red scarf was wrapped about its neck. Puck gasped in fear as colors started to return to the rubbery and mottled face.
"Redcap!" She squeaked as the creature lowered her towards its gaping mouth. It was well known redcaps could, and would eat anything. Including cats...and pookas. Her small hand darted into one of the many large pockets in her polka-dotted pants. Even as the redcap tilted her face first towards his gaping maw she flicked the three small hot peppers into his mouth.
"Gah!" The redcap choked in surprise, allowing Puck a chance to wriggle free. His pale white hand lashed out in a wild punch. She barely ducked it as she somersaulted backwards and away from him. He sneered at her in annoyance as his hand dropped to his belt and pulled out a wicked looking black axe. He spun the massive blade about easily in one hand as he advanced on her. "I'm gonna rip you apart you cute and intelligent pooka!"
"Cute and intelligent? I could come up with a better insult then that," said Twilight loudly. Puck frowned down at him as she puffed the last few bubbles from the end of her pipe.
"Well, that's not exactly what he said mind you. I was just cleaning it up for those fragile young ears of yours." Twilight shook his head with a grin, Puck could be so...adult...at times.
"So you were in the alley with a crazed redcap! Was he Unseelie? Did he have something to do with the murders? What happened to you?"
"Hush now," said Puck as she dropped from the tree. "I'm out of bubble soap. I can't finish the story now."
"What!?!"
"Relax," she chided as she started to skip down the path. "Meet me here tomorrow morning and I'll finish it up for you. Remember, there are still a few more lessons!" Puck rushed off quickly, leaving Twilight sitting quietly under the tree. He sighed in annoyance, it looked like he'd have to wait to hear what happened...
Will Puck escape the redcap? Will Rikard solve the murders? Will Puck be on time to meet Twilight. Find out next chapter. Same pooka time. Same pooka channel.