singindemonhq: (minion marty)
None of the Minions know if the story is true and it could be that not even the Operatives know for sure, but there’s a rumour that parts of L.A. are cursed and that nobody living there can sing. (That’s supposed to apply to the undead and to demons, too – which makes it all the stranger that there’s supposed to be a karaoke bar close to one of the dead zones.)

The reasons why the spell was cast vary with who tells the story. Most agree that it was meant to keep the Master out of there, but some say there was a Thesalac demon hanging out in a run-down hotel. Those specialize in paranoia and when people sing the truth it can come out that nobody’s out to victimize anyone. (Paranoids have enemies too, so it doesn’t always work out that way.)

Anyway, deception usually favours predators, and any of those could have bought the spell.

Some say the effect is part of Wolfram and Hart’s wards. You can bet that they’ve never wanted a musical truth-fest, (especially since old Suvata isn’t immune.) I’ve even heard that a guy called D’Hoffryn wished the spell done because a Vengeance Demon once summoned the Master instead of the other way around.

Anyway, I’d heard enough about the way the people there sound to flatly disbelieve what I was hearing when I was told we were going to do a Gig in LA.

I’m not supposed to argue but I did query that order. The only consequence, so far, is that I’m going in wearing a wire in case I need ear-plugs on the day. None of the Minions have hearing as sensitive as the Master’s, but we are not looking forward to this one!

Words 290
singindemonhq: (Default)


What is my Chinese zodiac sign? I guess that's obvious - Wood Snake.

 

General - Snake people enter a room and there is Music, Music, Joy! Everyone dances! Such high spirit! The Snake is so intense and passionate, just as likely to take out the castanets as to climb mountains of snow. Snake year people are charming and romantic, often planning delightful hideaway surprises. Possessing tremendous wisdom, they are deep, quiet thinkers, calm by nature, but most intense. They often get involved in great causes, bigger than life, and often serve as mentors to the young. To paraphrase Confucius, they have a kind of inner beauty that arises, hovers, then comes to nest. They will have an abundance of good fortune and a long and prosperous life.

Specific - Wood Snakes dream of success, fame, and fortune, but without really having the wherewithal to make things happen. Even though they are strongly career minded, they have trouble making goals and too many opportunities pass them by.  Despite it all, life is good for the Wood Snake. They generally have good fortune and they have "abundance" through other means, such as good health, wonderful friends, strength of character, an elegant lifestyle, and resilient spirit.

What about Romance? Hmmmm? Of all creatures, Wood Snakes are most in need of knowing how to tango (as in,"it takes two"to do so!). Relationships always have cracks. Snakes have to learn how to give a little and how to hold back in order to accommodate the needs of the partner as well as themselves. A stubborn streak and a tendency towards self-absorption make communication difficult. Through the cracks, flowers grow and when they do, Wood Snakes are very responsible and sensual lovers and beautiful to behold.


singindemonhq: (couch potato)
(OOC)

OOC

Dec. 23rd, 2011 05:28 pm
singindemonhq: (aa - dancing sweet)
The lay-out's a bit insipid but the comments ought to work right - please try commenting.
singindemonhq: (smoking in by Brent)
Soon you might wake up singing,
Of the dark and stormy night
That somehow took your browser out,
Of the way your bosses’ manners
Lead to anger and to doubt,
Of the way that every former love
Was flawed beyond a doubt…

Don't fear too much, just keep on singing,
The songs are just the lingering
Shadows of emotions,
As through the dreams, with nets of music,
I hunt the hidden truths
Through shadows in the dark,

You could remember secrets,
About the way your loss and sorrow
Still reflects in someone’s eyes,
About the way you found that cheating
Twists the way you see the prize
About the way you found that trust itself
Was something to despise…

So be afraid, but keep the rhythm
There may be shadows in the darkness
But you’ve danced this way before,
You should know every step and twist
And guard for every flaw,
As through the tears, with nets of music
You seek the promise that was happiness and love,

So be afraid, but keep the rhythm
You know that balance is the secret of the music
As through the songs, with nets of music,
You seek the promise that was only smoke and mirrors

You build the future that could be your happy ending
and through your dreams, with nets of music
You seek the promise that is happiness and love.

Muse, "Sweet" the singing demon,
Fandom, BTVS
words 293!
singindemonhq: (showtime spoken)
“I bring the happy ending,
The summons-chant says so.
I never made a claim like that
I sing and dance … and go.

There may be fun and laughter
There when the music starts
It just depends on what there is
The truth that’s in their hearts.

The magic can be painful
The whole choir won’t be glad
I guess the truth might make them free
A truth is what they’ve had.

there are too many tricksters
Who make the lying claim
That songs of truth and faith that’s pure
Will cure the halt and lame!

The fires burn bright…”

The old demon lost interest in the song and turned to look at the Gig Team. There was no other audience, anyway.

The Lead Minion stood stoically, smoothing the catch bag that he held folded neatly over one arm. His master made an irritable gesture and the thing vanished. They weren’t going to need it this Gig and they all knew it. There was no willing Summoner moving gracefully by his side, either. Not this time.

He hadn’t even had a satisfactory target.

What was there about humans that made them want to believe that every survivor of a bad birth, of a war or a sickness – of anything, why did humans believe that every one of the injured could get right up and dance right on, usually to someone else’s tune?

It made them blame the victims of crime, too. It let them think that they themselves - the Strong, the Virtuous - were entitled to walk the earth invulnerable to its dangers. They always found it easier to believe that the others deserved their misery.

He hated lies.

He hated Gigs like this one, too. He’d been called by crazy people before, that wasn’t new, but this Gig had been a case of what the kids in this age called,
“garbage in, garbage out”.

He’d known it was going to be bad the moment he saw the wheelchair.

Too many doctors saying she wasn’t trying, saying if she got her psychology sorted out she could dance tomorrow; too many films where the wheelchair user walked in the end. Too much garbage.

Calling a demon for a happy ending …

Sometimes the truth just isn’t enough.

He hated it when that happened.

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 380
singindemonhq: (minion marty)
The Master couldn’t hide what he feels if he wanted to; if he didn’t let us know the music would, that’s for sure. The Minions have to be semi-immune from that. It’s part of the job description. We have to dance (safely - the union insists on that, one spark and it’s a compensation matter) and we absolutely do not sing.

Apart from that, the job can get … varied, especially for the lead Minion. I’ve never been a reckless type and I never thought of the Master as taking unnecessary chances, either, not after all the years he’s lived – but I was wary of the queen I’m writing about now. (I’d have thought any creature with a brain would have been, but chanson a gout, or however they say it.) The Master seemed to like her, and the soundtrack confirmed it, but I don’t think he raised a hand to stop her from leaving.

The mask’s part of my working outfit but I was wondering whether it was true that she could smell fear all through the business with the portal; I got the job done, though.

As for the Master, I saw his expression. I heard the soundtrack, too. Sometimes he’s almost human – or maybe the saying applies to anyone. I don’t know. I just work here.

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 219

Very OOC

Jul. 1st, 2011 03:54 pm
singindemonhq: (a - Stage)
My computer has failed completely. I will be back as soon as I can - apologies to everyone.
singindemonhq: (aa - dancing sweet)
Way back in the years
I don’t remember too well,
Life was kinda different
But I ain’t gonna tell.
But then life went on
and - what can I say?
One day they were singing
I was born this way!

I was born this way,
It makes some folk cry,
Guess I’ll keep on dancing
‘till the day that I die.
I was born this way,
Nothing else to say,
Moving to the music
I was born this way.

So as I grew up,
There’s one thing that I found
Though my folk like music
They don’t want me around
So they changed my life
And sent me out to play
Sent me out to wander
‘cos I’m born this way!

I was born this way,
I’m just passing through
You belong in your world
Well that’s so good for you,
There’s no place for me,
I’ll just travel on,
Dancing to the tune that
You just bought for a song.

I was born this way,
You can hear them sigh.
Guess I’ll keep on dancing
‘till the day that I die!
There's no place for me
but I'll dance on my way
That's the way my script goes
I was born this way!

There are Gigs gone by
There’s a Gig today,
Don’t you hear the music?
I was born this way!

Muse; “Sweet” (the singing demon.)
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 222
singindemonhq: (aa - dancing sweet)
I guess you could sing that this subject called me,
I do love a chance to strut my stuff!
The Gig’s gonna start with the opening chorus,
The party goes on ‘till I’ve had enough.
I guess I can tell when there’s secrets buried,
The energies burn there deep within,
You could hear some songs that’ll set them reeling,
The Gig’s gonna start when I dance in!

Ain’t you never wished for a real good solo?
Ain’t you never wished you could change the plot?
Would you ever trust in a happy ending?
Would you ever know if that’s what you got?

The music will pulse through the world forever,
Just go with the flow and swing with the beat,
Some melodies lead to a real hot number,
Your world may be rocked by dancing feet.
Come midnight you might see the final curtain,
And some folk will know beyond a doubt,
That music has power and you can be certain,
The scene’s gonna change when I dance out…

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon,
Fandom; BTVS
Words, 165
singindemonhq: (sing to me)
"What is your opinion on capital punishment?"

♫♪Now, why would I have an opinion on a subject like that?♪♫ )

Muse, “Sweet” the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 555
singindemonhq: (survived sunnydale)
The signs of plague ain’t what they used to be. There are no bonfires flaring on the corners of the main streets, (none set by the authorities, at least.) He remembers those flames; fires set to scorch away the contaminated air (and perhaps, just perhaps, they deterred a few of the mosquitoes that carried death in their sucking jaws.)

He hadn’t known that mosquitoes carried the disease when Bronze John haunted New Orleans. He’d avoided foul water from fastidiousness when the bodies floated unregarded and cholera stalked the docks. The humans didn’t know what caused the spreading death, and they could only sing what they believed. They rang blessed bells to drive away the contagion and they tried to fight the stink with perfumed flowers. He remembers when everyone knew that malaria was caused by evil air.

He’s supposed to bring the happy ending so he’s been called to plagues more often than he cares to remember, listening to songs that get hotter as the fever flares. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about any of it, then or now. (Sometimes he remembers too much for comfort, but he knows now that a brain is like a computer - “Garbage in = garbage out”. He’s rather glad that he’s reached an age when some of the customers can sing about GIGO. Sometimes truth cuts, sometimes it burns its way out – and sometimes it’s the one painkiller that fits all.)

Now, though, he’s got a head that throbs with the beat, a throat that he doesn’t want to think about and a voice with a one octave range. The word “Dizzy” is an obscenity in his language; right now he’d put “Nauseated” in the same category. He aches in places he’d forgotten he had.

Even the lead Minion tried to refuse to come on this one,

“Master – do you know what it’s like to sneeze in that mask?”

The signs of plague ain’t what they used to be. There are no doors marked with crosses in red paint or lambs' blood. Nobody has scrawled, “God have mercy on us” on the walls. There are no bells, no cries of,
“Bring out your dead!” The songs of the city are bright with fever, but nobody sings about repentance – not yet, anyway.

All he wants to do is go home and lie down. He doesn’t even care whether the Summoner can sing or dance, not this time. If she qualifies to be taken he just hopes she knows a cure for this one, because he doesn’t.

Muse; "Sweet" the singing demon.
Fandom; BTVS
Words, 400
singindemonhq: (a - amused)
I’ve been smoking around checking out the place for a new Gig, but what the Hell is going on here?

I know about Christmas. It used to be a different kind of festival, back in the days when most of the place was farmland. In this part of the world it falls at time when the wind has a bite and the first flurries of snow are reminding them of how bad it can get, even in the south. The time before the worst of the winter really sinks its teeth into the land.

Then, farmers used to check their beasts and pick the ones not likely to make it through for slaughter. Better that they’re meat salted in the smokehouse than lost in the hills. Most usually ended up with more than they could eat, and that’s when they sent what they could spare around to the neighbours. Even now, this is the time of year when they sing about gifts and what they can afford.

Here though – what kind of neighbourhood is this? People here seem to be singing about something new…

An LJ Carol )

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 287
singindemonhq: (minion marty)
The Master left this one to me – you might not want to know his idea of a jolly jape, and you could be into your next century before you know if the joke’s on you. He doesn’t always want to sing too much about his sense of humor anyway.

Trouble is, I’m not much for jokes. The last one I heard was in a bar in one of the Hell-dimensions. I guess it was a joke, anyway. Some guy with horns told it as though it was, but given what the place was like he could have been serious. What do you think?

Apparently this guy went into their local ER, grabbed the arm of a man in a white coat and said,

“Doctor, Doctor – I keep on seeing the spirits of the departed, drifting through the shadows around me. Their eyes are fire and their teeth are fangs, and they cry out to me. It’s terrible. Can you help me?”

The guy in the white coat stared at him and said,

“Well, that’s (er) … not quite my … have you seen the Duty Psychiatrist?”

“Oh no,” said the patient, “I didn’t even know that he was dead.”
…………………………………………..

Yeah, well. I’m usually in the chorus line. I don’t do stand-up.

I’ve got to get busy anyway. It’ll be no joke when the Master gets back. I can’t stop his paid journal from running out and he ain’t going to like it.

Muse; Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS,
Words; 243
singindemonhq: (aa - dancing sweet)
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Well, I don't do trick or treating,
Not unless I get a call.
Then my visit may be fleeting
or the Gig may take in all,
and I'll sure pick up the candy if I can!
Bein' "too old" just ain't really in my plan!
singindemonhq: (a fiddle)
Are you kidding?

Flaunting and alien, wandering free?
Who do you think wants to persecute me?
Sharply dressed, talented, bopping on through,
Hey, you might see me as a threat to you?

Daring, uncaring, I dance on my way.
You bid me here, maybe I’ll choose to stay.
Maybe I’ll leave at the glint of a star,
(Death is for those who must stay where they are.)

Some find their terror quiets even a sob
Some find their voice in the bay of the mob.
Some live to persecute, won’t count the cost.
I put the songs in the mouths of the lost.

Ghettos and slums and the haunts of the drone,
and who can be safe when surviving alone?
Fire and the riots and the smoke of defeat
Where the meek find their deaths in the arms of the weak.

I hear the terror and I hear the rage,
And the puppets dance on, on their limited stage,
My hand ain’t hidden there pulling the string,
I’m just involved in the songs that they sing.

Scapegoat the beggar who’s born in a ditch,
Scapegoat the crone that the children name, “Witch!”
Scapegoat the stranger or scapegoat the poor
Scapegoat the cripple or scapegoat the whore,

Scapegoat at will all original sin,
Scapegoat the mind that is hidden within.
You make the targets, I'm singing it true,
By adding the label that says, “not like you.”

Muse, “Sweet” the Singing Demon
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 222
singindemonhq: (preen ani)
I used to say that I prefer to get Minions by personal recommendation (although I have a private superstition about never employing a Minion who worked for an Operative that died. If he died he probably didn’t have good sense and he ain’t an example that I want to follow.)

Sometimes potential Minions turn up on a Gig. Good dancers, not too much in the way of a voice and likely to take a spell easily. The ones who are naturally immune to the singing mojo won’t do. I do not want to employ someone who can’t be interviewed properly - but they have to be immune to the magic when they’re working or they could spill the Master’s plans to any passing harmoniser.

One of the questions in the job interview is, “do you work well under pressure?” I remember the one who answered, “That depends on what is being pressed” – well, he was a Vellian; you’ve got to expect that kind of thing, especially when they have to give honest answers.

Anyway, It's the Minions who need to be good under pressure. I need the Minions able to think on their feet. Even then, sometimes …

There was a recent Gig where the one who called me had far more money than sense. She read the part about a happy ending and never thought twice about a payment that wouldn’t involve a credit card. Then her fiancé was there for the big finale.

There’s always the moment when the cabinet opens and there’s the smoldering body falling out of it and the big reveal of why it ain’t safe to go summoning my kind of magic for fun. The fiancé didn’t hesitate for a second – he grabbed her arm and dragged her into a run and a jump over the thing as it turned to ash, shouting,

“Jump rogue and heiress leap,
My wife thou art and mine to keep!

Well Oh Kay; I ain’t heard that one for decades – and then it was a different version, in a world a long way from here. Humans have always found ways to get married on the cheap, jumping broomsticks, leaping swords – jumping a fire is a really old one, but when that ceremony takes it carries an additional blessing. I wondered if they knew about that. Well, they’d find out soon enough.

As it was – well, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

”What?” )

Muse, “Sweet” the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words, 666!
singindemonhq: (showtime spoken)
Where am I most myself? What kind of question is that?

Which self?

I’m myself (in a way)
In the place where I bide.
There are selves that I show
There are selves that I hide,
I’m a wonderful dancer
The star of the show,
I sing easy and often
I come and I go.

I’ll reveal certain things
(Sometimes when I take pride
It’s the nearest I may come
To “courting” a bride,
But the things that I sing
And the words that come bidden
Are as part of myself
As the things that are hidden.)

I’m myself when at home
I’m myself when abroad,
I’m myself entertained,
I’m myself when I’m bored,
I’m myself when alone
I’m myself when with you
I’m myself when I’m vague
Or when I’m singing true.

I’m myself when I’m working
Myself when I play,
I’m myself when I act
In my role for the day.
I have so many selves
But they’re all part of me
As the droplets of water
Are part of the sea.

Muse; “Sweet” the singing demon,
Fandom, BTVS
Words; 174
singindemonhq: (a ruin - tinkermellie)
Are you well organised?

Oh, well enough. I have to think on my feet, any operative who lets the plans for his Gigs get set in stone could be under a rock himself before he knows it. I can’t waste time fussing over details once the show’s started, I’ve got to be flexible enough to bring us all through and out safely.

The real trick is to find the right Minions and let them do the organising while I just give the orders. That’s not as easy as you might think. They need to have initiative, and they need to have brains and sense enough to use it right.

I hate it when I get called to a Gig during a war, but it’s happened more times than I care to count. Right through history there were armies where the officers bought their commissions and most of the brass weren’t promoted on merit. The ones who made it through were usually bright enough to realise that it was different in the lower ranks and get themselves a really good sergeant. Then the Duke would say,

“Take that hill!” and the captain would turn around and say,

“Take a squad and do it! Carry on, Sergeant.” And, with luck, an experienced old soldier would get the job done.

It’s like that with the Minions. You can tell a really good Lead Minion to collect your queen or deliver a Slayer ready for the last act and they just do it. Give the order and it’s done, count on it.

So yeah, I’m well organised. It’s in their job description.

Muse, “Sweet” the singing demon.
Fandom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Words, 254
singindemonhq: (a - amused)
Sold out? They say that about everyone in show business. The answer is always about the same and it never satisfies them. I heard it again a few days back.

Sometimes the dimensional portals miss-route; I aim to take the Gig Team to a Hellmouth or something and we come out in a Viking encampment or King Henry the Eighth’s palace. I hate it when that happens. So far I’ve always got most of us home safely, but there are stories about Operatives that didn’t…

Anyway, I thought it had happened again, last week. We’d arrived in an empty hall with a stage set for the dark ages. The Minions were just sealing the portal when we heard voices.

When I smoked off to check I found a bunch of humans in a side-room in the craziest mixture of costumes. They were leaning over a table and I thought they were setting up a sacrifice until I saw the leader throwing some kind of crazy dice; then a skinny guy started arguing with him and headed for the door.

When he opened it and found he was looking straight at a Minion he said,

“Do we see this?”

Okay, so I cast the mojo to find out what the hell was going on and the leader started singing,

“Here we do not contend that life's not role-play.
The world's a stage and there we play our parts
Our lines are writ by fate, until our endings
and we play on with all our wit and art.

Thy hit points may be low, with poor charisma,
Or thou couldst play a hero in his might
A sage, a mage, a beauty or a slattern,
a rising star or one in pitiable plight,

But life's a show and all are merely players,
We may think ourselves mind, or heart or soul,
But when we take our curtain calls and leave it,
our world remembers how we played our role...”


Yeah, Humans are odd, but they make sense, sometimes. That’ll do for the answer.

Muse, Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS,
Words, 338.
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