Looking for the minions who went missing ain’t as easy as you might expect. The trouble is that they probably got caught by a misrouting dimensional portal. As far as I know they started out from Los Angeles. That makes it difficult.
For one thing, a lot of the people there are pretty self-centred. The ones who are making a good thing of living there don’t notice much. Their minds are on botox, bonuses and the next contract, so that’s what they sing about. It can be great if you’re looking for a profit. There are those who look out for my Gigs just to hear what’s really going down on the stock market. They sing about sex and their relationships, too, but you get that anywhere. They don’t sing about a couple passing strangers walking into the wrong hole in the air and vanishing.
Some of the rougher types tend to notice things more. It’s a survival thing. Predators notice the prey and the prey types had damn well better notice all they can; they live longer that way.
The trouble is, there’s a spell on one of the areas of LA where most of the portals operate. It radiates from an old hotel where a bunch of white-hats took up residence. Most of the operatives know about it. It’s a kind of ward cast by an old paranoia demon who used to hang out there. He worked his shtick by convincing people that the world was out to get them. Someone getting them to sing true don’t always help with that.
That spell makes them tone-deaf. Humans that hang about there too long sing like … I don’t have a word for it in this language. It’s that bad. You ever hear that guy Angel sing?
My kind speculate about whether this place could be a hell-dimension. Well, I’m looking for someone right here in the wrong part of LA and I could tell them…
This is Hell.
Muse, Sweet the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS.
Words, 329
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